The Cat's Cradle
by KAISRE
Summary: There were a lot of things Lithuania knew and didn’t know. But he was certain this man was depending on him, and only him. There was no other way. AUish LithuaniaxRussia
1. Chapter I

_**Title: **__The Cat's Cradle__**  
Rating:**__ PG-13/ T__**  
Pairings:**__ Lithuania x Russia (future Lithuania x Russia x Poland? )__**  
Summary: **__There were a lot of things Lithuania knew and didn't know. But he was certain this man was depending on him, and only him. There was no other way. AUish LithuaniaxRussia_

_- - -_

**Chapter I**

It's been months.

It's been months since he had last heard from him.

He knows he shouldn't care. He knows it didn't involve him and none of it was in his power to help…  
But he _told_ them.

"_America, we can't stand around and ignore this!" Lithuania was almost pleading._

_America's fingers were intertwined and resting at his mouth. His eyes seemed to be staring holes into the polished wooden table. "I know," he says, sighing. For the first time in a very long while, Lithuania notices the aging in his voice. "But we can't make it through the blockade. No one can."_

_England is sitting besides America and France is sitting besides England. To his right there is Germany and to his left there is Japan._

_On his own side, there is no one._

"_The Russian government split itself up. America's right, there's nothing we can do," France says. He's almost calm. "We'll have to let Russia fight it out-"_

"_He's _killing himself,_" Lithuania argues, "By the time the war ends, there will be no more Russia. You haven't seen what's been happening in there." He shakes his head. "It's the Holocaust all over again. No man, no woman, and no child are safe. In Russia, if the other side finds you, you would be better off dead."_

_It's silent for a moment._

_Toris's eyes dart from nation to nation. He knows it's a lost cause to argue any further, but he can't stand it, any of it._

"_China is supplying the east," Japan points out. "If any of us decide to assist the western region, he will not be happy."_

_England curses and everyone focuses on him. "Damn it all," he grinds his teeth angrily, "The government is rebelling against itself. How would we decide to support which region anyways?"_

_Germany clears his throat and the attention switches again. "We have no choice but let Russia be. None of us knew a dispute would escalate to something like this."_

_He almost forgot, all because of an energy shortage and the failure to evenly distribute the resources over the land caused this. Powerful leaders who broke off and banded together lit the spark._

_America is speaking again, "I'm sorry, Toris."_

"_Why are you apologizing to me?" he wants to say._

_But he only closes his mouth and gazes down._

_Later, the meeting ends. Everyone files out except England and Lithuania._

_England stares hard at him and he can't look away. "Be careful," he warns. The words are coming out slowly and gravely. "If you get too close, Russia might take advantage of you and possibly seize the Baltics again once he recovers."_

_He knows._

_  
_It took ten years for the war to end. China withdrew his aid after a dispute with the "East"- that's what they, the two sides, were referred to as, "East" and "West".

Without China's support, "West" regained all its lost land in less than a year and forced "East" to surrender.

It was a victory for one side, but it was clear Russia himself had lost plenty and won nothing. Lithuania pitied him and he hated it-- but like everyone else had said, there was nothing he could've done.

Even with the war over, Russia had cut off all contact. He tries calling, he never picks up. His messages are always left unanswered. Lithuania's already busy caring for his brothers and he knows it would be better for all of them if he just kept to himself.

He almost hates Russia for making things difficult. Just almost and he doesn't know why.

-x-X-x-

Lithuania reclined on his leather chair. He had been stuck in his study for almost a full day now going through the endless piles of documents. He rubbed his cramped wrists and inspected his paperwork. By now, he was sick of his own signature; the fluid motions of his pen were already etched into his mind.

Estonia and Latvia try to help of course, but Lithuania always brushes them off, insisting that it was his responsibility. He's been saying that a lot.

The phone sitting on his desk a top a pile of month-old papers rang, almost sending Toris toppling out of his chair in surprise. He bit back a curse as he answered the phone.

"Hello?" He tried to keep the impatience out of his voice.

"Oh my God, Liet! Why haven't you called me? It's been forever!" Poland shouted indignantly on the other line. Lithuania cringed and kept the speaker away from his ear.

"I'm sorry Poland, you know I've been really busy lately", he sighed, rubbing his temples. "Estonia's people want me to lower their taxes and everything but his boss is completely against it. I don't even know why this should be my problem."

It's silent on the other end-- maybe he was thinking, or maybe he simply didn't understand.

"It must be so totally hard," Poland said, quieter this time, "After the whole union thing, you've been working yourself to death, Liet."

There was another pause.

"I'm, like, really worried about you."

Poland was _worried_ about him?

"Sorry," he apologized again, "but it was my idea to have Estonia and Latvia live with me after you know, the rebellions. I can't disappoint them."

"You're just trying too hard! Like, take a break, okay?"

Lithuania figured Poland wasn't going to give up on this, so he didn't bother to explain any further. But then, maybe he was trying too hard to please everyone, but if anything went wrong—no, he wasn't suppose to think like that.

"Thanks Poland. You're right, but don't worry about me, I won't kill myself."

"So you'll call?" He asked hopefully.

He nodded, and then he reminded himself that he was on the phone and that Feliks couldn't see him. "Yeah."

"You better or I'm totally coming over there," he warned playfully.

Liet found himself smiling. "Haha, okay. Talk to you later then. _Viso gero_."

"_Do widzenia_." He hung up and set the phone down, the grin fading from his face as he realized he still had a whole packet of papers from Ukraine who was requesting a loan and an audience.

Thinking about Ukraine reminded him about Russia. He still hadn't contacted anyone, including Lithuania. His brow furrowed in deep thought. When the war ended, so did the blockade yet no one dared to step beyond the border. All trade had ceased and Russia had not attended any of the recent world meetings.

There was something wrong—and this time, Lithuania was _not_ going to sit around and do nothing.

With resolve, he tidied up his papers and placed them into several folders respectively and stacked them on his desk for later delivery. On his way to the front door, he noticed both Eduard and Raivis observing him from the opposite doorway to the kitchen.

His back was to them as he said, "I'm sick of waiting. I'm going to Russia's house."

"Do you want us to come with you?" Estonia asked. Lithuania turned so he could look at them properly. Estonia had a tense expression on his face while Latvia was trembling at the prospect of having to go to Russia's house again. Lithuania's expression softened.  
"No, it's fine," he acknowledged Estonia's unspoken concerns, "It won't be like back then, it's different now. I'll be okay."

Eduard nodded. "Alright then."

"G-Good luck, brother," Raivis squeaked out. Lithuania smiled reassuringly and he timidly returned the gesture. At that, he opened the door and left.

-x-X-x-

Toris found it highly ironic that the front of Russia's house was overgrown—it was obvious no one had even bothered to tend to it in a while. Did anyone even still live here?

His gaze darted back and fourth as he made his way up the pavement. He took care not to get his feet caught in the vines or the weeds that have pushed themselves through the cracks in the cement.

Despite all the plant life, the place felt like _death._ The sun was shining down on him, but he felt the coldness seep into his very being—it was terrifying.

"_This will be your new home. I hope you will work hard."_

_The three of them nodded, having no idea about what was in store for them—especially for him, Lithuania._

Toris shivered at the memory. It had been a very long time ago. It shouldn't be bothering him now. Yet, his back began to prickle and twitch.

It seemed like a year by the time he was finally standing before the front door. The stone and wood seemed untouched by both the elements and people. When was the last time someone had gotten this close?

He knew it was pointless, but he raised a hand to the brass eagle head to knock three times. Then he remained silent, straining his ears against the door to see if he could pick up any sign of activity from the inside. His heart was pounding, and after a minute of anticipated waiting, he tried the knob. To his relief and suspicion, the door was unlocked. What was Russia thinking? Did anyone else know about this?

It was as if he didn't care if anyone tried to invade.

He stopped asking himself about the door to focus on his current surroundings. The furniture was exactly the same from over a one hundred years ago—a hundred years since his independence.

However, every surface was covered in a thick layer of dust. Lithuania covered his nose to avoid breathing any of it in. Stepping on the carpet sent up clouds of refuse as he made his way to one of the living rooms, which was parallel from the front door.

The soles of his boots echoed against the tile. He found it safe to breathe again. "Russia?" He asked. There was no answer as expected. "Russia?" He repeated, much louder this time. "Ivan?" He tried, still no response. There was nothing to be heard aside from the beating of his heart.

He tried the kitchen next which was to his right. The sink was empty and clean. The counters were bare except for the dust. Lithuania carefully stepped to the fridge. The only things that were stuck to it were memo notes with sloppy Cyrillic writing on them, and a small calendar—the ones that you tore the pages out of. It looked strangely out of place compared to the stylized objects that were in the house, though that wasn't the only odd thing about it—

It was left on March. Today was April 27th.

It was obvious that Russia was not in the kitchen so he moved on to continue his search.

The office was empty--and room after room, it was the same—empty and lifeless.

Lithuania's chest ached with worry and panic. Russia couldn't be _dead_, could he? Was it actually possible that the nation had killed himself and nobody would know about it until _now?_

He was running now. He bolted through doors, scanned the interior, and left for the next room. The storage rooms were empty; the bathrooms were empty. He sprinted up the first flight of stairs and began with the second floor.

This was where the bedrooms were. Toris tried to ignore the violent and painful memories that were flashing through his head as he went through every room.

He slowed his pace to a stop when he reached the door at the end. This was it. This was where he _did_ everything to him. He inhaled deeply, his chest and head pounding.

_This is different,_ he reminded himself. He was stronger now. He shouldn't be afraid. He shouldn't be scared.

But he was.

He placed his hand on the knob—the metal seemed colder than the others.

Then he opened the door.

There was a clinking sound, and Lithuania realized the door's edge was pushing against broken glass and cracked bottles.

They were _vodka_ bottles.

Toris slowly looked up, afraid of what he would find. But he found who he was looking for.

Russia was sprawled with his back to the mattress that was lying to the back of the room. The sheets were in a careless pile on the floor. Lithuania pushed aside the glass with his foot as he slowly walked up to the unmoving country. Russia was only wearing a single layer of clothing along with his scarf. The ends of it were stained with a black substance. With closer inspection, Toris found that it was blood—dried blood.

"Russia?" He whispered softly. He knew he wasn't going to wake up, but he prodded Russia's side gently anyway.

Then he froze.

His heart sped up as he frantically unbuttoned Russia's shirt.

What he found made him sick; he wanted to vomit.

It looked like a canvas was stretched over a skeleton. Lithuania traced each rib with the utmost care. Every ridge he felt under his fingers sent a wave of nausea throughout him.

There were scars as well—these were new, Lithuania figured. Thin lines were crisscrossing over each other to form X's that were distorted by the bone and whatever muscle was still left clinging to them.

Lithuania's eyes and nose began to burn as he held back tears. This was _his_ fault, he could've helped stopped this. If only he had involved himself—to any side, it wouldn't matter—it would've never had gotten this far.

"I-I'm sorry, Ivan…" Guilt clouded his mind as he tightly gripped the tattered scarf. Tears were threatening to spill out; Toris gave up trying to hold them back. There was no one here to see them either way.

Lithuania cried out in shock as a hand flew up to grip his arm. The hold was tightening and the fact that nails were digging into his skin didn't make it all that more comfortable.

Russia gazed up at the startled Lithuania. His violet irises were dead and dull with dark rings beneath them.

"Toris…?" He asked—his voice was faint. Lithuania flinched. "Toris, is that you?" He could only nod—he couldn't find his own voice.

"You came back." Russia let go. Instead, he tried to help himself up, but his arms shook violently before they gave away. He fell against Lithuania who gently supported him. Ivan clung to his arms. "You came back…" He repeated, he almost sounded happy. "I've been waiting forever… I don't want to be alone anymore."

"I'm here," Toris said; it felt like a stranger was using him as a mouthpiece. "But you're not well, Ivan. I need to help you."

"Help…" he echoed, then he chuckled. "Help, I've been wanting that for a long time but-" his voice darkened, "-_they_ didn't want that, they didn't want me to have it. I've been betrayed, Toris."

"Who are they?"

Russia laughed again and moved his shoulders, as if he was shrugging. "The ones I must listen to. They promised me a change for the better, a paradise. But look at me now."

Lithuania placed his palm against the back of Ivan's head as if in an embrace.

"Ivan…"

"I know Toris won't lie to me, that's why I'm safe now, right? I'm safe because Toris is here with me again." He nuzzled against his shoulder and Lithuania could feel his ribs rub against his middle.

"I'll make you better," Toris whispered. "I'll have to carry you out, you're starving…"

Russia didn't say anything, but let himself go limp so Lithuania could place one arm under the crook of his knees and the other under his shoulder. Russia was larger than him but Toris wasn't weak, and the lack of muscle mass made it easier to lift him up and carry him. The scene would've looked almost comical—comical if it weren't for the situation.

Russia gripped the front of Lithuania's green blazer as he grimaced. "It hurts, Toris. My entire body… It feels like it's falling apart, like it's being _torn."_

Lithuania was focusing his eyes on the stairs as he carefully stepped down them, careful not to bump Russia. "You're going to be alright, I promise."

He relaxed in his arms. "If that's what Lithuania says…"

When he reached the bottom, he looked towards the sofa and remembered that it was still coated with dust. With one arm, he supported the frail Russian as he quickly dusted with the other.

When he was done, he gently placed Russia on his back on the piece of furniture.

Without Russia's feeble body heat against him, Lithuania noticed how cold the bottom floor was. He undid and slipped off his blazer and placed it around Ivan, who smiled.

"It's warm…" He said, huddling up against the article of clothing.

Before he knew what exactly he was doing, Lithuania reached down and brushed a blonde bang away from his face. He quickly withdrew his hand but Russia didn't seem to have noticed.

"I'll be back with something," Lithuania said. Russia didn't reply and so he turned around in the opposite direction towards the kitchen.

-x-X-x-

Earlier, Lithuania had already figured out that Russia had become even more unstable, but he was still _different_ in another way. The intimidating air he normally gave off had faded somewhat. Toris had the feeling that anything at anytime could crush and destroy Russia. He felt so fragile, breakable, _vulnerable_ while he was in his arms.

With difficulty, Lithuania forced himself to focus on the food he was making. He found his old apron in the pantry after checking he had the right ingredients. There were enough carrots and onions, but the celery roots had already spoiled. There was no fresh chicken--or chicken broth so he had to settle with canned broth and frozen meat.

Lithuania's hands were shaking dangerously as he sliced one of the carrots. In his mind's eye, he could see the flash of silver and the stinging-burning pain that would follow.

Suddenly, the knife that was in his own hand slipped and cut open his second finger. He hissed in pain, as he quickly lifted his finger away to avoid getting blood on the food. It wouldn't do him any good if he got blood on the floor as well, so he doused his entire left hand under the faucet.

After a moment, he turned off the water to inspect his wound. The incision wasn't too big, but it wasn't very shallow either. Blood was still leaking out of it so Lithuania stuck it in his mouth while searching for a band-aid.

After a minute of impatient searching, Lithuania accepted that Russia did not keep his first-aid supplies in a place like the kitchen, so he settled with tying a piece of paper towel around the cut.

Being more careful this time, Lithuania finished with slicing the vegetables and proceeded to dice the thawing chicken.

When he was done, he dumped the pile of ingredients into the simmering broth. He sighed.

_This isn't much—I'll bring something from my house later._

Then with a jolt, he remembered that Eduard and Raivis were still waiting for him at home. His eyes darted to the clock on the stove; it had been almost an hour since he left. He should probably call.

With his right hand, Lithuania rinsed the cutting board and placed the knives he used in the sink to be washed later. He dried both his hands before taking the nearby phone from its place on the wall and dialing his own number.

It was Estonia who picked up. "Hello?"

"It's me," he replied.

"Lithuania!" He cried out, " We were getting worried. Poor Latvia was… well you know how he is."

Lithuania rubbed his head. "I'm sorry." Toris realized how much he had been apologizing today. "I was a little occupied."

"Well, did you figure out what happened?"

"Yeah… But I can't talk about it right now. Hey, Estonia?"

"Yes, Lithuania?"

"You didn't tell anyone about this right?"

"No, we were too busy waiting but did you want us to--?"

"No, no," Lithuania said quickly. "I-I'll explain later. Well I have to go now, the soup is boiling." He hung up before Estonia could ask about anything else.

_He's probably upset with me now, _Lithuania mentally sighed, _I'll make it up to them later._

Lithuania leaned against the kitchen wall and slid down couple inches. The front of his head was throbbing. He knew exactly what he was getting himself into.

Burying his head into his own two hands, Lithuania took a long moment to wonder what the hell he was going to do with Russia.

Then he remembered that Russia was literally starving to death, so he rushed to pull out a bowl and pour out the steaming soup. "The ingredients aren't the best," he mumbled, "but it'll have to do for now."

He was pleased to see that the soup had thickened as he placed it on a tray and spooned it around.

"Russia," he said as he stepped out into the living room with the tray, "I made something. Please eat."

There was a soft murmur of acknowledgment as Toris set the food down onto the long table—well at least it was something.

With difficulty, Russia pushed himself upright, the green blazer sliding off him slightly. Lithuania rushed to help him. "I'm sorry there isn't any bread." Toris wasn't really sure about what else he should say.

"Lithuania is kind…" His voice seemed a little distant as he reached forward for the spoon with shaking hands. Lithuania quickly gripped his hand and the utensil for support.  
_It'll only be for a little while. He'll get better and when he does, things will be back to normal, _Toris told himself.

However, Russia wasn't looking at the food, but at the makeshift bandage Lithuania had made for himself.

"Are you hurt?" He asked softly.

Lithuania blinked. He didn't think Russia would notice—or even care for that matter, especially when he himself was a walking skeleton.

"I-It's fine."

But Russia didn't _think_ it was fine for he tenderly took Lithuania's injured hand into his own and carefully undid the bandage. "Oh Toris…"

Russia was being gentle, but Lithuania still had to force his body from trembling in his hold.

_Cold fingers traced over the crosshatching scabs. Cold fingers dug, unforgiving, through blood and skin._

_Healing wounds turned back into bloody lacerations. Tormented cries remained unheard. _

Bright red blood began to bead at the surface of the cut. He thought it would have stopped bleeding by now.

Lithuania's eyes were on the other-

--And that other did something Lithuania did not expect.

Without a word, Russia took Lithuania's injured finger into his mouth and closed his eyes, resting the incision against his tongue. Toris felt warmth surround the stinging lesion as Russia delicately rubbed it with his tongue, cleaning the opening of the cut.

The air was cool against his now-wet skin as Russia slipped Toris's finger from his mouth and _kissed_ it. It was only a kiss—there was no biting, no ripping, no pain.

"Be careful Toris." He smiled. He _smiled. _Lithuania thought it looked warmer than the ones in the past. This smile was not cold, it was not a lie, it was real.

When was the last time Lithuania was unafraid of his mere smile?

He found his own face grow warm.

"Th-thank you."

He offered the spoon to him, not wanting to delay his nourishment any longer. Russia began to wolf down the food hungrily. Lithuania closed his eyes as continued to support him. _Or maybe it won't be for a little while._

He didn't know if this happened because of his own growth after adopting the rest of the Baltics—or if it was because Russia really _was _going to die.

What he did know, however, was that the man in his arms right now was depending on him.

_But what do I owe him? After all... _

But Lithuania pushed the voice out of his head. He couldn't dwell over the past.

Maybe all of this was a sign.

Russia finished and leaned against his arm comfortably. "Toris… I'm… tired," he said as he closed his eyes.

Lithuania brushed his hair lightly. "Rest," he breathed, "I'll be here."

Maybe this all was a sign… that all of them could start anew.

-x-X-x-

TBC in Chapter 2, if I continue. What do you guys think? Should I go on? I know Im really bad at making up history, Im sorry x-x

Well here are some notes and things to have on mind.  
The foreign words Feliks and Toris used at the end of their conversation mean "Goodbye" in Lithuanian and Polish respectively.  
In this universe, Estonia and Latvia had a few skirmishes over resources (similar to Russia) and Lithuania stepped in, which led to an agreement that Estonia and Latvia would both move in with him, forming a union.

Seriously though, the "history" isn't going to be the main point of the story (or will it?) I do want to add in Prussia but I'm not sure how to bring him back to life owo… Help?

Well, I hope you guys like it so far. Tell me if you want me to go on.

Please Review~


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter II**

"_Don't lie to me, Toris. I know you don't like games."_

Lithuania blinked. Undesirable memories were nagging at his mind while he tried to work on cleaning up Russia's (rather large) house. He couldn't help but think about the drunken- _hellish-_ nights as he swept up the broken vodka bottles in Ivan's bedroom. He tried not to remember about the days and weeks without food he was forced to endure. He tried not to dwell on those fateful days when his people were exiled to Siberia.

Over and over again, his instincts pleaded for him to stay away, but Toris always found himself wandering near the living room to check that Ivan was safe and sound.

He was.

It was hard, but Lithuania had forced himself to call home again to let Estonia know he was staying for the night.

"_Hello? Eduard?"_

"_Toris!" His voice was sharp and biting and Toris flinched at the harshness of it all. This was not going to be easy. "Toris, you're not hanging up on me again! What's going on?"_

"_There's something wrong with Russia…"_

"…"

"_I mean, he's different, and it's unnerving. "_

"_You're not making much sense, Toris."_

"_He's just… Calmer… And I'm not talking about the calmness before the storm or anything, but it's like he received a lobotomy."_

"_A lobotomy?" Estonia sounded skeptical—it was infuriating for him, Lithuania. "Wouldn't it have been better if he received one _earlier?"

_Lithuania wasn't sure how to respond to that. "D-don't say that," he stuttered. He felt Estonia had no right to make any judgment when he was the one who always got the easy way out. "I'm serious, Eduard. I'll be home tomorrow noon."_

"…_What?"_

_Lithuania sighed. This was not something he wanted to repeat. "I'm staying for the night."_

"_Toris—!" Estonia immediately protested._

"_Listen to me!" Lithuania cut across him. He was in no mood for berating. He was sick of hearing that he was _weak _and _irresponsible. _He was sick of hearing how the "grown ups" should step in and take care of everything. He was trying so hard, so why…? "He's not well!" Toris's heart welled with self-loathing as his voice turned out much harsher than he intended. "If Ivan's condition is common knowledge, there's no doubt some countries will be out for revenge. He'll be ripped apart all over again."_

"_Are you pitying him?" Estonia demanded._

"_It's not pity," Lithuania said quieter this time. "It's help."_

_There was a slight pause._

"… _What about your own work? You'll be back?"_

_The image of the stack of papers from Ukraine still left on his desk hovered in his mind. "I'll take care of it tomorrow when I get home."_

_Another pause._

"_You can't keep this a secret forever. Word will eventually get out, and when it does, everyone will not be happy about this. They'll accuse you of taking advantage of Russia's state of weakness."_

_Lithuania closed his eyes. Of course—it was bound to happen. "I know… America is on my list." _To tell. _"I'll take care of it. Trust me."_

"_Alright."_

"_Oh and also-"_

"_Hm?"_

"_I think it would be best-" Lithuania clenched his eyelids tightly as if expecting some sort of physical blow "-that Russia would stay with us for a little while after he recovers. He's in no shape to even walk."_

"… _If that's what you want." His voice sounded restrained Lithuania noted._

"_That's it. Thank you. You'll let Latvia know?"_

"_Yeah. See you later then."_

"_Good bye." _

_Click._

_Lithuania returned the phone to its place on the kitchen wall, which he leaned against, burying his face in his hands for the countless time that day._

_That night, the world seemed like a much more distant place._

-x-X-x-

"How are you feeling?" Toris was grasping his hand at first, but Ivan made it clear that he preferred to cling onto one of his arms instead. It gave him a sense of power, and in desperation to justify himself, he told himself it was a sort of _paternal _power—or maybe it was something entirely different, something on an entirely different level.

"I'm better."

"That's good."

"Toris?"

Lithuania stroked his hair. "Yes, Ivan?"

"Do you think I'll die?"

The Lithuanian's heart skipped a beat. Why would Russia be asking about this? "I-Ivan?" He was horrified to find that he was _smiling_ as if his question was perfectly normal.

"I can feel the death spreading throughout my bones. It's an odd feeling, Toris. " He chuckled and Toris's chest tightened. "I'm used to the cold, of course, but this is something new—I'm not afraid though. I feel like _he's_ waiting for me."

Toris found himself wrapping his arms around the blonde's figure tightly. "Don't say that. Don't say that. You won't die; I'll save you. "

Russia didn't say anything to that but remained in Lithuania's arms. Toris wasn't sure how long they stayed like that—but he wished the noon would never come.

-x-X-x-

Lithuania never thought that leaving Ivan's house would be so _painful. _He felt his heart cracking as he walked down the same over-grown pavement. Guilt pounded in his chest and spread throughout his veins like a disease. His self-assuring thoughts did little to ease his inner turmoil. Toris didn't dare to look back for he knew Ivan would be staring after him behind foggy glass with those same foggy irises.

Ivan knew Toris was coming back, he had promised him with a kiss planted on his forehead. He promised he would be the one to protect him this time, that he would be safe and warm—that he needn't be afraid.

Toris wrapped his arms around himself and buried his nose into the collar of his shirt even though it was quite warm today. Uneasiness filled him like sand as he reached his own doorstep. He pulled the key from his breast pocket—he had left his own blazer at Russia's as a token or reminder that he _would be back_.

He shuddered in the invisible cold, ready to face his two brothers.

-x-X-x-

There were two men, and they were seated at a rectangular table at opposite sides. The room they were in was dimly lit.

"Can't there be _one_ century where we can live in peace, Gilbert? I'm telling you, you shouldn't carry out your plan," the blonde one said, obviously exasperated.

The man named Gilbert scoffed as he reclined in his own chair, perching his feet onto the table much to the displeasure of the other. "_Relax_, West. _My_ people are getting restless you know. The land is dying and they know it. We just need to negotiate a little more living space."

The other—Germany—grimaced. _Living space_, it was a terrible phrase that reminded him of one of his more violent ex-bosses. "Don't do it," was all he had to say. "England, France, and America will stop you."

Prussia shrugged, unconcerned. "I have it all planned out. It'll be fine. But the question is-" he paused to take his feet down so that he could eye Germany properly "- will _you_ stop me?"

Germany opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. Instead, he glared at the other. He didn't like Gilbert's intentions but there was no way he could raise a hand against his own brother. "You know I won't."

He grinned, his red eyes glinting. "I'm not the villain, so don't give me that look like I was one or something."

Ludwig wondered in the back of his mind why _no one_ ever listened to him.

-x-X-x-

"You-" _whack _"idiot!" _whack whack. _"For the last time-" _whack _"listen to me-" _whack "_when I'm talking to you!"

England was halfway over America's desk with one of his knees pressed on the corner as he smacked the blonde over the head a couple times.

America was fending off the attacks weakly. "Ugh, stop it, I'm listening!"

England heaved in heavy breaths as he regained his composure. "Alright then. You know why I'm here. I received intelligence that Russia is in a state of utter destruction."

America willed himself not to sigh. Lithuania was right; he should've listened to him. "Well that was expected. I barely survived my own five years. Russia's was _ten years_ for God's sake."

"What are you planning then?"

America shrugged. "The obvious I guess. We'll send aid to the standing government. I hope you're doing the same, Arthur?"

America's desk phone rang before England got the chance to answer. Alfred held up a single finger as he answered the call and he grumbled, peeved.

"Hello? Lithuania? Yeah… I'm with England."

There was a pause. England strained his ears to hear whatever Lithuania was telling America who nodded. No use.

"Is that so…" Another brief pause. "Will you need help?"

His face changed to that of concern as England fiddled with the corner of his desk impatiently.

"Okay then, we'll talk about this later." America hung up and rested his chin on his interlaced fingers.

"Well?" Arthur demanded.

"Lithuania is already sending support to Russia. He also told me that information on Russia's condition isn't very widespread-"

"_Well of course-"_

"-and that it would be better if it remained confidential."

Arthur blinked. "_What_? It's _Russia. _People are bound to find out about it whether we tell everyone or not. "

America nodded, his gaze hard. "Others will be out for his resources. I hope it won't be driven to the point where we'll have to send troops to Russia."

"He won't have it," England dismissed.

"According to Toris, we don't know what he will or won't have. The man is in an extremely fragile state he says."

"Well did he elaborate?" America shook his head.

"No, he said he'd explain in a proper meeting."

England folded his arms. "Well isn't this a giant clusterfuck."

Despite himself, America found himself grinning.

-x-X-x-

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

"Hm?"

Lithuania was lying on his own bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, unmoving. Latvia was standing on the side. He was worried about his older brother and decided to check on him after Toris locked himself in his own room for hours.

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing? After all we've been through, is this the right way to go?"

Latvia fidgeted with his hands, uneasy. Lithuania was already worn and stressed—what should he say to him? He understood Lithuania's motives and outlook well, but he felt Lithuania was also throwing himself onto thin ice—that or shark infested waters. The latter seemed much more fitting.

It was true—Lithuania _was_ worn and stressed—so why was he doing this to himself?

_Because he's the only one out there than can save Russia._

"I…" He started nervously, but his voice only trailed off.

Toris shifted his head to face the flustered Latvia and smiled. The smile, however, didn't reach his green eyes. It seemed tired and starved. "It's alright, you don't have to answer. I'm sorry for putting you in such a position."

"Don't say that," Latvia managed to get out. He felt tears gathering in his eyes but his confidence was building up. He wasn't going to let Lithuania burden himself with countless loads. "Don't say that, Toris! You told Feliks that you would be fine!"

Tears were spilling out now and Lithuania was looking at him with utter shock. "You told him you wouldn't kill yourself! I was outside your door and-" Raivis shook his head, trying too rid himself of his own crying, "-and everyday, you work yourself beyond your limits! You told _us_ that it wasn't going to be like the past anymore but…" He locked his watery gaze onto him.

"… what's different?"

It was Lithuania's turn to be at a loss for words. "Latvia…"

Latvia threw himself over the Lithuanian, enveloping him into a tight hug. "Just don't-" he sobbed, "-don't worry about me and Eduard! It's Ivan that needs you. We'll be fine." He couldn't say anymore, and the only thing he could do was to cry out the rest of his tears into Lithuania's shoulder.

Lithuania returned the embrace, resting his cheek against the blonde head of his younger brother. Latvia's passionate sentiment on the matter was clear to him now.

As he wiped away the other's tears while speaking words of reassurance and promise, he felt his own heart grow lighter. His lips formed two words.

"Thank you."

-x-X-x-

Lithuania decided to make it a part of his schedule to visit Russia's house. Every hour away from the weakened nation made his stomach heavy with anxiety.

He unlocked and knocked on the door before opening it. "Russia? I'm back."

Lithuania wasn't really expecting a verbal response but the silence still worried him as he stepped inside.

It didn't take long for him to find Ivan, though. He was curled up on the same sofa he had slept on the other day, his shoulders rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm.

Toris found it best not to disturb Ivan at the moment, so he made his way towards the kitchen instead.

He placed the food he had bought on the counter, careful not to make much noise.

As he set to preparing the fresh ingredients, Lithuania nagged at himself for leaving Russia alone for as much as a day. He doubted the other moved much since he left, not even to fix something for himself to eat. The feel of his ribs haunted Lithuania's fingertips. He grimaced and hastened up.

-x-X-x-

There was crying.

Sobs and pleas were ringing in his ears.

Ivan had given up trying to convince the unknown presence to stop. The erratic howling and whimpering drowned out his own voice. Agonized screams layered over the crying and Ivan felt a growing pain in his head.

There were too many voices—too many things were going on, he couldn't keep up to the begging. He couldn't even make out the words. The words were muffled, yet the screaming and sobbing were somehow more than audible in his ears.

"I can't help you," he tried saying again. He noticed that he couldn't see. It was pitch black. He felt his face pull into a frown. Obviously there was no one here—so where did all the shrieking come from? '

Russia walked forward—well what he felt as forward, there was no way to tell which direction he was heading in—with an arm stretched outward as if he could feel where he was going.

The hysterical wailing was driving more pain through his mind—he longed for it to stop.

"Please stop, please stop. It hurts."

The crying had faded, but the tortured screaming grew louder and louder and-

"_Vanya."_

Russia froze. That voice… It sounded so sweet, something sacred, something so _sanctified._

Something he could never have.

"_Vanya."_

But that voice was calling for him. He needed to answer it.

Then there was something above him; he looked up to see a growing light—the only thing in sight. He reached towards it, his fingers spread wide like a black spider.

He woke up to a world of light and color.

The first thing he saw were radiant green eyes—except they were glazed over.

"Who…?" He cringed as a sharp pain shot up his throat—it was raw.

"Vanya… It's me, Toris." He sounded scared. Russia felt his own fear ebbing away at the sound of the nickname. "You were… You were… screaming…"

Russia cocked his head in bewilderment. "Me…?" He flinched again at the pain in his throat.

"I tried to wake you up," he continued, "but you just went on."

Whatever fear was left pounded in his chest as Russia rested his chin on Lithuania's shoulder. He smelled of something familiar; it was nice. "Say it, say my name again."

Toris complied, "Vanya."

It was beautiful. He felt warmth blossoming in his core as he pressed his body against the other. The Lithuanian was very warm himself, just like always.

Toris fondled with the lightly colored locks of hair. He whispered words of affection and comfort into the other's ear as he rubbed the ends of his hair between his fingers.

The steaming pierogi left on the kitchen table remained untouched for a while.

**-x-X-x-**

And TBC in Chapter three 8D Sorry this one is so short, I promise it'll get better next chapter.

Thank you guys for all the feedback I received on the first chapter, it was more than I expected OwO –hugs everyone-. I love your guy's reviews; they keep me going x3

Some Notes:

Pierogi is a Slavic food. It looks like a typical dumpling and it can be filled with pretty much anything from meat to cheese to mushrooms and even fruits owo. I never tried it myself but it does look kind of good XD

Pierogi also seems to be a favorite of Ivan along with vodka. Oh Lithuania, you're so thoughtful.

Vanya is short for "Ivan" so it's a nickname of endearment XD

Hope your guys enjoyed~ x3 ciao.


	3. Chapter III

I'm not sure if you guys already knew this, but I think the format looks better if you set it at ¾ a page instead of a full page. Well, for my story anyway. The setting for it is at the top right of this table if you don't know.

Enjoy~

**Chapter III**

It so happened that Russia was staring out that one window—that one window that was splattered with blood and snow on that one day.

It was a fixation he had adored.

The red liquid trickling down the frosted panes into the countless ice crystals fascinated him. He would often experiment on his precious person just to see if it'd create the same effect.

_God_, he loved that too—more, even. The flushed skin ridden with tears and blood sent waves of overwhelming revelry throughout him—it was wonderful, blissful in its own twisted way.

And then he hated that as well.

Sometimes—no—all the time, he would be confused. The gentle feel of silky brown hair sliding between his fingers did appeal to him, and so did the sound of his strangled screams as he choked on his own blood. Yet no matter what hell Ivan had put him through, he still retained that glowing ember. It gave off a lovely light—the only thing he, Ivan, could reach for.

That was a very long time ago

Lithuania was right beside him with a hand placed on his lap. Ivan found it comforting. "The weather is nice today. The rainclouds from yesterday cleared up."  
Lithuania figured something was bothering him when he didn't respond at all.

"What are you thinking about?"

"…No one will ever forgive me." It wasn't exactly an answer to his question, but Ivan felt he needed to let Toris know. He seemed to be upset about his notion though. He was sorry—he didn't mean to trouble him.

But Toris only entwined his fingers—they were soft, like always—with his own cold fingers, blanketing them in heat. He couldn't help but have his free hand join them.  
"We are all…" he tapped every one of his fingers as he spoke in soft tones. "…Looking…" The Lithuanian's thumb landed on the Russian's smallest finger. "…For forgiveness. " And then he gazed up at him, green orbs half-hidden by dark lashes. "We can only hope for grace."

"And me…?" He asked. To be free from all of this sounded too good to even be fathomable. He could not erase hatred—the past. He _was _hatred. But then again, Toris wouldn't lie to him—not now. It was going to be different now, so maybe he _could be_…

"You'll be fine," Lithuania murmured, placing a light kiss on his forehead and everything felt right again.

He continued, "If you'd like, you can stay with me. It'll only be for a little while—until you get better." Russia noticed the anxious undertones. Was he afraid? Why would he be?

Russia rested his head on the other's shoulder, closing his eyes. "If that's what you want."

Toris squeezed his hand and he reopened his eyes. "What do you want though?"

What did he want? He wanted an escape. He wanted to be somewhere bright, somewhere away from the cold—anywhere with Toris. Russia pressed their hands together even tighter. "I'll go."

Maybe this was one step closer to that light.

-x-X-x-

A week passed and Lithuania found himself in the company of both England and America.

"So… I guess we've reached an agreement then?"

They were seated at a small round table. England jerked, it seemed he had been in some kind of stupor while stirring his tea even though the sugar had long been dissolved.

"I'm sorry, what?"

America shot him a look as Lithuania tentatively took a sip of his own tea.

"You're a hypocrite, you know? I've been saying it'll be fine for Russia to recuperate at Lithuania's _since it's safer. _Oh and that_ he has our complete support, _just as long as he _lets us know how_ it's going every once in a while."

Lithuania murmured a thanks but he doubt anyone heard.

"Fine," England responded, irritated. "But would you stop talking like that?It's bloody annoying_…"_

America smirked at his success. "Sounds good then. So, Lithuania, is there anything else?"

The brunette shook his head. "No, that's it at the moment."

England leaned forward so suddenly that Toris feared for a moment he was going to knock over his cup. "How long do you think it'll take for things to return to normal?"

"N-normal?" Lithuania blinked. He knew the question was going to be brought up sooner or later—but it didn't mean he had a solid answer for it. "I'm not really sure. It's been two weeks ever since and he's gotten a little better, but progress is still rather slow and this isn't something we'll be able to fix overnight."

England sat back, sighing and rubbing his temples. "The wanker… Yes, you're right. We'll have to let things take their course. You have my backing as well then."

Lithuania nodded and got up from his seat. "That's all then. Thank you for meeting with me, it's appreciated." He inclined his head in their direction and left the room, shutting the large doors behind him.

"Poor bloke," Arthur remarked when he left, "he does seem pretty worn out. Are you sure this was a smart choice?"

Alfred scratched the side of his head. "Now I'm not so sure, but he seems pretty determined. Remember the last meeting? He was kind of… uh… passionate I guess."

Arthur gave him an odd look. "You don't think…?"

America chortled, waving his hand in dismissal. "It's pretty believable but let's not hurt ourselves thinking about it."

England rolled his eyes, exasperated. The idiot never really took things seriously, did he?

"But seriously now. Do you think Lithuania will be able to defend himself and Russia with his current military power?"

America shrugged. "It's hard to say. He managed to stay out of war for a long time now, I wouldn't be surprised if it shrunk a little ever since then, but I wouldn't worry about it either. Didn't we say he had our support?"

"Well I'm thinking that over."

He looked at him questioningly, "Why? Don't. I know him, you know him. He's a good guy."

England remained silent, thinking hard. No doubt at least one country would try to get a piece of Russia for themselves, whether it be by force or "peaceful" negotiations. He knew that Russian territory was one of the few remaining oil sources known which troubled him even more. If it weren't for the fact that Russia was shielded (if only partially) with his current alliances, Arthur wouldn't be surprised if the whole country was split into pieces by a third party by now.

But then again, what if those third parties formed an alliance, or staged an attack with his already existing alliances? Lithuania would be forced to defend his neighbor and then England and America would have no choice but to join him as part of their agreement.

But there was no way someone was going to start a third world war over oil alone.

Maybe he was just worrying too much. A large country such as Russia overwhelmed with this many war damages was alarming, but maybe Toris did have it under control.

_Toris was strong_, he mused. It was true he lacked nuclear missiles or other WMDs of his own, but he didn't need those to keep the Baltics together or to take in another country under his wing.

He was a good guy.

-x-X-x-

"How did it go?"

Lithuania hung his blazer on one of the entrance room chairs. Latvia was standing not too far from him with an armload of papers for him to sign later.

"Great I guess. America has confidence in me and so does UK, but not as much." Lithuania sighed. "But it could've been way worse I guess. The other countries must know by now so…" he shrugged.

Latvia nodded. "Well then, I'll just leave these in your office. I haven't read them so I'm not sure what they are."

"Thanks." He turned towards the kitchen. "Oh, by the way, where's Estonia?"

"Ah, I forgot to tell you, he's been gone for a while. He told me he had a meeting with someone… I forgot whom though. Talking about meetings, what about Ukraine?"

Lithuania jolted. He had almost forgotten! He already accepted to grant an audience so their meeting was scheduled for tomorrow noon. "Eh… Thanks for reminding me. I'm meeting with Miss Ukraine tomorrow." He sighed again, "Good thing I took care of everything though. The house is getting dusty, I should probably clean…" The last part wasn't really directed at anybody but himself.

"Okay then," Raivis replied before disappearing behind the office doors.

Lithuania set to taking out the cleansing fluid, rag, and duster. However, a loud series of knocks echoed from the front door, startling him into knocking over the bottle.

"Who is it now," Lithuania thought to himself, exasperated.

He unlocked the door a little harder than necessary and answered it. "Uhm, how may I—" he stopped in mid-sentence. His face was met with a gaping steel hole that was barely a foot away.

"Hey, long time no see," East Germany, or Prussia, said, cocking the magnum in his hand.

"You…" Lithuania narrowed his eyes. He knew that one shot from the gun would blast away more than just his head. "What are you doing?"

Prussia smirked. "I'm just here for a little bargaining that's all. Now aren't you supposed to welcome me in? I heard Lithuanians were _excellent_ hosts."

Toris had no choice but to step aside and hold the door open. "I don't know what you're hoping to gain, but you're not going to get away with this."

He only laughed as he stepped in. "I think you do know what I want—and _relax_—who said I had any plans on killing you?"

"What?"

Prussia's smirk grew wider—Lithuania hated it. "Say if I shot here-" he jerked his gun which was still aimed at Toris's face, "Or here-" he lowered the gun so that it pointed towards his heart, "you'd die won't you?" Then he snapped his fingers with his other hand. "Just like that. It wouldn't be any fun." He lowered the gun to his side to Lithuania's puzzlement. "Besides, I just showed up. It wouldn't be fair for either of us if this ended too soon."  
He added, "And don't even think of surrendering. I want this to be worth my time." He spat and Toris kept himself from flinching.

He still didn't understand why Prussia had shown up at his doorstep all of a sudden, armed. "So what are you planning to take from me?"

He shrugged in mock indecisiveness. "Some Baltic shores, Russian land sounds nice too even if it _is_ a bit cold. It'll be good for profit though."

"It's not my place to hand out land just like that," Lithuania said, his voice dripping with venom, "especially when that land isn't mine to hand out in the first place. Try something else." He knew he was treading on dangerous ground but he was too angry to care.

Prussia shook his head. "That's not how it's supposed to go. I'm not expecting my _requests_ to be met in an instant. I'm not stupid either-- do you even know why I'm going to you for this?"

Lithuania only glared at him.

"Because if I decided to invade Russia—as easy as it would be—_everyone _else would get on my case about it and West will never let me out of his sight. However-" he held up a single finger with his free hand. "-If I have you persuade the others to surrender some of their territory, then things will be perfectly fine. They all love you, right? I'm sure you'll be able to pull it off."

"No," Lithuania replied coldly, "I'm not going by your rules or demands."

Gilbert sighed. "Yeah, I knew you'd say that. I was kind of hoping for that response too."

Toris didn't bother to ask.

"Alright, listen up then. I'm the one who's armed here. If you don't listen to me, I'll have to shoot you in your leg or something until you actually listen." He gestured with his gun and Lithuania couldn't help but draw his foot back a bit. "Or," he added, "I can be nice and give you a chance to fight. If I win, you do what I tell you to do with no complaints; and if you win, I'll leave you alone. So how's it going to be?"

Lithuania thought about Latvia who was probably in his room, away but aware of the scene. Estonia was out and will probably stay like that for the rest of the day. Russia was still resting in one of Lithuania's spare bedrooms. Everyone was safe—for the time being at least. If he can beat Prussia here, things will turn out fine and it'll be one less thing to worry about.

"The latter," Toris said. He wasn't sure what he meant by "to fight" but hopefully it wasn't with firearms.

As if he was reading his mind, Prussia tossed back his magnum, which skidded on the tile and out the door, far from either of their reaches. Next, he slid a hand into his uniform to pull out something sharp.

Lithuania had a second to react as he caught the flying knife by the handle. The blade was curved and thick—it was obviously made for combat. He tested the tip to see if it could stand up for use—It was sturdy.

Toris looked up to see Prussia pull out a similar weapon to his. He twirled it between his fingers into the desired position. Without saying anything more, he lunged forward, swinging his arm at Lithuania's face.

Toris stumbled back clumsily to avoid the attack. He barely had enough time to right himself before throwing his knife forward to deflect a blow aimed for his middle.

"You're really slow. I guess six hundred years didn't do you justice," Prussia goaded as he delivered a set of heavy blows.

Toris felt his weight and strength in every strike. There was no doubt the other had the advantage. He hadn't fought like this in a very long time.

Toris moved his arm faster to go on the offensive. Up- left- right- up- down. To his dismay, Prussia blocked every blow with ease. To the right, then to the left. Lithuania was forced a step back.

His green eyes synchronized with the movement of the blades.

_Come on… I used to be so good at this. Just block out everything else… _His brow furrowed in deep concentration, then he noticed a lag in Prussia's movements. Wasting no time at all, Lithuania thrust out his arm towards his chest.

Prussia avoided the attack—but just barely. The teeth of his knife had snagged on the uniform, effectively ripping it. He tsk'd.

"Well there goes one set. I sort of liked it too."

"They're all the same," Lithuania retorted through clenched teeth. _No distractions._

Prussia only chuckled and stabbed at Lithuania's own chest. He swerved to the side to avoid getting cut.

However, the position was too awkward for him to strike back. Prussia took advantage of it and aimed for the face. Lithuania twisted his feet over each other to get out of the way. _Too slow_, he thought in panic.

And less than a split second later, something warm was dribbling down his cheek.

He bit his lip and tried to ignore the burning.

The corner of Gilbert's mouth twitched. "Well aren't you lucky. Any moment later than that and I probably would've been able to cut your face properly."

Lithuania replied with an attack to the chest. Prussia blocked it with his knife and the teeth of the two blades caught against each other. Toris forced his weight onto his weapon to inch the tip closer to his skin. Prussia responded by forcing his blade outwards as well.

_Just one slip… and we're both dead, _He thought apprehensively. He felt a faint vibration and he wasn't sure if it was from him or Prussia. He stared angrily into his burgundy eyes. _You're not winning this one._

Prussia, however, twisted his blade to force Lithuania's away. They both stepped back in anticipation. Lithuania took the first move and aimed for the heart again. Prussia dodged this one altogether and threw out his arm, missing Lithuania's side by a hair.

He then brought the knife up in a swoop; Lithuania leaned in a curve to evade it. Prussia leered as he took advantage of the momentary distraction and grabbed the Lithuanian by his hair.

"Ah-fuck!" Toris hissed. His head was twisted back as he was forced to turn around. He couldn't get a clear aim so he cast his blade forward blindly. It met with something hard and the next thing he knew, the weapon was twisted out of his grip.

The hold on his head tightened. He was dragged and then for a moment, he felt weightless.

His fore head met with the corner of the nearby table, sending stars into his vision. Then his hair was seized again. Lithuania struggled to retaliate but blood from his fresh wound dribbled profusely into his eyes, blinding him. His conscious was faltering and stars continued to swim from under his eyelids. He couldn't see and he couldn't think straight—he was at Prussia's mercy.

_D-damn it all! I can't lose!_

The grip on his hair relinquished only to refasten itself around his throat. He was then lifted, struggling, into the air.  
The back of his head burst with pain, and all was black.

-x-X-x-

Prussia stood over his defeated opponent. Lithuania was slumped against the wall. His head had left a smear of blood against the white paint and the window above him had cracked.

"I hit him pretty hard," he mused, "but he's still bleeding. It's probably just a concussion. A bad one." He shrugged to himself. "Well I shouldn't be worrying."

Prussia set to cleaning off his knife on the Lithuanian's clothes. Then he gathered the other dropped blade and scowled. He let him touch one of his precious knives for this. He'll have to think more about these things in the future, now he had a dead weight to take care of.

"Toris?"

_That voice—! _Prussia spun around, his blade still in hand, but his gun was outside, far from reach. "Stay back," he demanded.

Russia tilted his head, his eyes following the diminutive splatters of blood and onto the unconscious figure that lay ahead of him. So this person was…

"What did you do to Toris?" Russia asked, his voice terrifyingly calm.

Prussia narrowed his eyes. The man before him was still as tall since he had last saw him, yet he looked frailer—smaller, and he knew it wasn't the absence of his coat that made it seem so.

He still gave off a frightening aura.

"I asked YoU wHaT you did To tO_ris…_" His voice transformed into something unstable—the pitch of it changed erratically. Prussia took a step back. He full well knew what that meant. The mauve irises began to drive daggers through his soul.

"PleAsE lEaVe… " He took a step forward. "_Please leave. I wAnT to hurt you. _Toris wOuLdN't want that, but he'll fOrGiVe me just _this once…"_

Prussia's gaze darted towards the door, it was only a meter or two away and it was wide open.

Fuck, this hurt his pride and even worse, fear began manifest in his center. It wasn't supposed to go like this—who knew when his next chance would be? His people couldn't wait any longer.

Prussia turned towards the door and left in long strides, not pausing to pick up his discarded gun, nor look over his shoulder.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

Germany was _never_ going to let this go.

-x-X-x-

Russia took slow, deliberate steps towards the slumped figure. His gaze lowered as he studied the drying blood on Toris's face. The raw patch that was half-hidden by his disarrayed bangs glistened but the bleeding had stopped. Ivan knelt down beside him, his knees shaking.

With the utmost care, he reached forward to brush the brown hair away from his bloodied face. "Toris, I told you to be careful," he spoke softly. He took Lithuania who fell into his arms without resistance. The back of his head rested against his collarbone and red daubed onto his scarf but he took no notice.

It wasn't fair. He was trying so hard, yet Toris always ended up hurt. It wasn't his fault—it wasn't supposed to be his fault.

"R-Russia?" He looked up at the tentative-sounding voice. It was Latvia who was standing at the foot of the stairs. His tiny body was shaking—he was scared.

Scared for Lithuania or scared of him? Forlornness settled in his stomach as he searched his memory. Latvia was always trembling in his presence, wasn't he?

"Lithuania is…"

"W-we need to get him help…" He said.

Russia looked down at Toris with a blank face. "Help…?" Then awareness of the severity of his injuries clicked in his mind. His eyes widened in horror.

There was a clamor at the still-open front door. Both of them swapped their attention to see Poland stumble in. He bent over forward as he struggled to catch his breath.  
"I'm here… I tried to get here-" he paused to take in a gulp air, "-as soon as I could… after you called. Oh God, Liet…" He staggered over to where Lithuania was; he was still in Russia's hold. "I'll have to… like… ask about this later."

Russia looked up to study the blonde's face. His cheeks were flushed but the rest of his exposed skin was pale with fear. His olive-colored eyes were wide and staring at him with the utmost urgency.  
Poland was… Lithuania's friend. That's right. He was dear to him.

His head began to spin as his vision hazed over. Poland was saying something but he couldn't make out his words clearly enough. Ivan's reply never left his lips—he had already passed out.

-x-X-x-

It was Feliks and Ivan who were seated at Toris's bedside. The brunette had been brought in over an hour ago—he was still out cold. Ivan stared on with a dismal expression while Feliks checked over the IV drips to make sure everything was right.

White bandages circled around Toris's head and a single band-aid was placed on his cheek. With all the gore cleaned off his face, he looked livelier in a way. The doctors said there weren't any permanent physical damages, but they would have to wait for him to wake up in order to make a proper judgment.

However, his injuries weren't the only problem. If what Raivis said was true, then Prussia had indeed carried out an act of war. Poland had already learned about America, England, and France's response to the incident. Their feelings were mixed but needless to say, they were still furious.

Poland was incensed himself, but he was still against Liet going to war. There was no way something involving this many countries could be contained in a two-sided conflict (thinking about the last world war made the line traveling down his torso prickle) and he didn't look forward to ending an era of peace they had all managed to maintain—In short, Poland was worried about the other's reactions. He couldn't tell them to calm down either—what Prussia did was completely uncalled for.

Russia, on the other hand, seemed to be impassive about the other nations' thoughts. The last thing he said had been at Liet's house. Feliks found it odd for Ivan to remain this quiet—normally, he would involve himself in anything that wasn't supposed to involve him and offer his assistance (though Poland wasn't sure if it was always considered as such).

It hadn't been a long time since he heard that Russia was recuperating at Lithuania's. He was shocked and concerned at the same time when he first received the news. The two countries' relations were unclear since everybody had little to no contact with the larger nation during his civil war, but Feliks was under the impression that Lithuania had always disliked Russia. Well, he was proven otherwise.

He himself didn't hate the nation—nor did he like him.

But the decade-long war had also clearly altered Ivan. Feliks no longer found himself on edge in his company. The thought of a repressed Russia seemed so alien to him, yet here he was in the same room with him in total harmony.

As much as he would like to keep it passive, the quiet air caused copious amounts of tension to build up in his chest.

"I hope he wakes up, like soon," he said awkwardly. Russia blinked and looked at him. Poland began to wish he had just stayed quiet.

"Hn," Ivan rested his chin against the back of his linked hands, "Da. He will."

"Oh well, then… How do you feel about this?" Poland wasn't sure if that came out right—he just wanted to maintain the conversation.

Russia shrugged. "I feel… _angry_ that someone would do this, but then I'm relieved that Toris will be okay." His gaze lowered and his expression changed to that of remorse. "Ah… But I wasn't any better, no?"

Feliks wasn't sure how to respond to that. "We've all done some totally bad things, haven't we?"

Ivan cast his gaze to the side; his eyes were half-lidded. "Maybe so. Haven't I hurt you as well?"

Poland's hand automatically flew to his chest. The long, caved-in scar could be felt through the cloth of his top.

The permanent infliction was more than apparent, yet Poland never really thought about it. "It was a long time ago. It, like, isn't noticeable with most of the clothes I have, so it's totally fine."

Russia nodded slowly and didn't pursue the subject any further, but Poland had the feeling the matter didn't leave his mind.

-x-X-x-

The evening had dimmed into night and the curtains of the ward had been drawn. Poland was curled up on his chair fast asleep while Russia remained awake.

Earlier, the two had made it clear to each other that they wanted to be there when Lithuania awoke.

Ivan didn't trust himself to fall asleep. The last thing he wanted to do was arouse the two of them with his nightly episodes. He didn't even feel tired, which was unusual since he was still prone to fainting spells.

"Nn…" came a groan from Lithuania, the first sound since his hospitalization. Russia reached forward, elated that he was finally getting a reaction from him. "Nn-no… stop…" He froze—Lithuania was not announcing his regained consciousness, but talking in his sleep.

The Lithuanian's brow creased as he tossed his head to the side. "I-I'm sorry… Please don't…" His entire body was convulsing now. Russia couldn't bring himself to try and hold him still. "I'm sorry… S-someone… someone help me please… _please…"_ A dry sob escaped his lips. Toris's hysterical murmuring didn't wake up Poland, but Russia was still there to hear everything. He couldn't do anything but listen in his own petrified silence.

"I-I didn't…." His words broke into indiscernible sounds.

He stopped mumbling for a moment. Russia pleaded to himself that that was the last of it.

Toris wasn't done though. In a cracking tone, he whispered, "I lo-love you…"

And then all was still.

Ivan was left to cry silently alone in the dark.

**-x-X-x-**

I'm really sorry this is late! I'm in Arizona for part of my spring break and where I'm staying doesn't have internet Dx (I'm uploading this at my brother's dorm, I'm so paranoid that I left a lot of mistakes in here x-X) I made this chapter longer than I planned so I could make up for it. The hospital part was supposed to be saved for Chapter four.

This chapter made me realize that I'm not very good with Poland's character ID' I'm all right with the dialogue but I have no idea how Poland thinks. I mean, people don't really add words like "totally", "uncool", "like", and "to the max" to their thoughts, do they? That being said, I think I made him really serious, so he seems out of character orz. I didn't really have much of a choice though D; -flail-

Oh, I know I made Prussia seem like a total dick, I'm sorry Dx. I needed an antagonist and since Prussia wasn't on very good terms with Lithuania (?) and Russia, I figured he would've been the best choice. Don't get me wrong though, I love Prussia. He's just… mislead in this story otl.

I hope I didn't overdue this chapter either owo'. I need to organize myself more~

Anyways, last but definitely not least, thank you for all the kind reviews last chapter ;A; I honestly love reading from you guys~! –showers you all with love–

That's it, Ciao~


	4. Chapter IV

**Chapter IV**

Ivan could feel it.

The pain from ten years worth of suffering returned to incinerate whatever was left under his skin. His people were dying and he was deteriorating. Every death was like a needle through his chest—every massacre, a knife.  
But he had hope; at times like these, Lithuania would hold him between his arms and tell him it would be all right, that everything would heal and that the two of them will be there to see it—together.

Ivan had faith in that.

But here was his light, covered in sickly white sheets, unmoving except for the slow rhythm of his breathing.  
Lithuania was not there to hold him this time; he was not there to piece together his crumbling heart—knowing that was what hurt him the most.

Russia lifted the limb hand to his mouth—the warmth was failing.

But he looked so _peaceful_.

He returned Lithuania's hand to where it was on the sheets and rose from his chair. Leaning over the sleeping nation, Ivan took time studying the brunette's serene, undisturbed face. His wounds were hidden from view so there was nothing to ruin Toris's unmarred image. His lips were slightly parted and Ivan was close enough to feel the gentle gusts of his breath. How he longed from them to brush against his skin again.

Russia ignored the protests in his arm as he used it to support himself. With slow, hesitant motions, Russia lifted his free hand to cup Lithuania's cheek, tenderly stroking the soft skin with his thumb. He almost flinched when the other shifted his head slightly to fit against the palm of his hand.

Ivan smiled despite himself. Aside from the dull pain that was continuously gnawing away at his core, something else was blooming inside him. Desire began to weave its way through his emotions as Russia found himself bringing his mouth closer to Lithuania's. He froze just a millimeter away from his lips.

Russia clenched his eyes and stifled a sob. Why was his dear Toris torturing him like this? He begged himself to pull away but he couldn't. The need for his touch clawed at his insides-

- and Ivan gave into it.

He pressed his own cold lips against Lithuania's (he tried not to think how rough he must've been) and proceeded to massage the corners of his mouth.

Lithuania lurched from underneath him and instead of breaking contact, Ivan found himself pressing harder, penetrating his mouth with his tongue. He continued to lick the inside of Toris's cheek, drawing suppressed moans from the other. A faint voice in his mind was telling him to stop but his own thirst overwhelmed it.

To both his pleasure and horror, Ivan felt like he was claiming something that was long lost— something that was meant for him since the beginning.

Russia widened his mouth to indulge as he dug his tongue deeper. To his delight, Toris began to kiss back. His hands fumbled over the sheets, searching for something to latch onto. It didn't take long for Lithuania's fingers to find and wrap themselves around Russia's wrists. His hold was loose and weak, though—he wasn't fully awake yet, but Russia didn't care. The pleasure he was evoking from this alone was enough to drive his hurt away.

He exited Lithuania's mouth and set to stroking his neck instead, causing him to arch his torso slightly. His tongue found a certain elliptical scar at the base of his neck—the one he had made all those years ago. Russia tried to ignore the guilt that was plaguing his mind as well as his ever-fading voice of reason.

He couldn't let this go. He needed this. Toris was _his._

Russia's arms pulled away from his grasp only to reach down the covers to caress his jerking hips.

Panic clashed with lust as he felt his own heart begin to ice over…

Only with the sudden appearance of emerald eyes was he brought back to his senses.

Russia stumbled back, half his body still on the bed. Lithuania was sitting up now, his expression mixed with shock and something else. His mouth was still glistening with their saliva and Russia was staring back in horrified remorse. His body began to quiver violently as realization set in.

_No, no, no!_

He didn't… Oh god, what was he going to do? He almost… He almost…

Ivan let out an anguished sob as he dug his fingers into his own scalp, pulling at his hair. He threw his head from side to side as if trying to rid himself of an invisible tormentor. He couldn't hear Toris call his name—he wouldn't let himself.

He was corrupt, depraved, undeserving of that sacred _light_.

Blood began to gather underneath his fingernails but he didn't care. Toris will never trust him now; he had dug his own grave. There was no way- no way he could go on… If only…

Ivan was in his arms now. He tried to pull away but Lithuania refused to let go. He couldn't fight it. His hands began to claw at his back, catching against the ropey scars that could still be felt from beneath the material, but still Lithuania didn't budge. He begged and pleaded _let me go_, but Lithuania remained steady. He only pulled him closer, stroking his hair soothingly.  
Finally, Ivan stopped resisting and let himself listen to Lithuania's words. His teeth were still clenched, tears were still running down his fevered cheeks, and blood was still pounding in his ears.

Toris was hushing him now and Ivan bit his lip to silence himself.

"I love you." Russia froze. How could…?

"I love you, Vanya," Lithuania repeated, burying his face into ashen hair.

Ivan grasped the front of his shirt, his eyes leaking fresh tears.  
"W-why?" He choked out. "I-I'm…"

Lithuania cradled him. "Shh… It's alright, I love you… You know I always will."

-x-X-x-

_It was dark and the only thing Toris was sure of was that the back of his head was throbbing painfully. He tried to help himself off of an invisible ground but his arms wouldn't respond to him.  
Where was he? He couldn't remember anything and he couldn't draw anything from his surroundings either._

_But… his head hurt, and everything right now was an all-too-familiar sensation to him._

_Fear suddenly began to flood his already dulled senses as he saw a tall figure walk towards him. Toris noticed a long scarf billowing behind him in a non-existent wind. His features because clearer and clearer as he got closer. It didn't surprise him—but fear was still pounding in his chest._

_Lithuania could see that Russia was holding a bloodied pipe._

_He looked down; to his horror, Lithuania found that he was lying down in a puddle of bright red fluid—no doubt it was his own. The puddle was growing larger and larger and Lithuania couldn't tell where it all was coming from. At this rate, it won't be long before he bleeds to death._

"_N-no! Stop it!" He screamed at the spreading liquid._

"_What do you think you're doing, Toris?" Russia asked. His voice drove daggers through his mind. He stepped towards him, his boots dipping into the blood with an echoing _splash. _He raised his pipe threateningly and Lithuania cowered before he could stop himself. "You thought you could make a fool of me? You thought that you were safe?" _

"_I-'m sorry!" He cried desperately. He didn't know what Russia was talking about, but who was he to try and reason with him? "Please! Don't!" The pipe was brought down._

_Lithuania didn't feel any pain, but he did feel a curious sensation on his forehead._

_Before he knew it, blood was gushing out of the open wound, dying his vision red. He struggled for breath as the warm blood flooded into his nose and mouth._

_Russia continued, "I'm all you have, Lithuania."_

_He wanted to deny it but as he tried to sort out his own turmoil, other people began to form behind Russia. Their faces were hidden in the haze and the only things that were left visible were the rest of their bodies._

_Who he recognized as Poland was standing the closest to him. Lithuania struggled to make out his face through the veil of blood he was sure was covering his eyes. Poland's eyes were impassive and his mouth was blank, giving off a sense of apathy._

"_I'm sorry…" Russia didn't give a chance for Lithuania to finish for he violently dug his heel into his side, drawing an agonized scream from him._

"_Someone!" Blood was pouring out of his mouth now. Oh god, there was so much of it—how could this be happening? His vision was flashing red. Why wasn't anyone…?_

_Something snapped in his side and Lithuania had a second to realize that Russia had broken his rib. The pain… it felt so real. This was all a nightmare—it had to be._

"_Someone!" He screamed again. "Help me, please! Please!"_

_But no one moved—they all continued to stare down on him as if he were a worthless, dying animal. He reached out a hand, but it fell, splashing into the pool of blood._

_Russia knelt beside him, violently seizing his jaw to force Lithuania's gaze into his. "Have you always planned to betray me?" He hissed._

"_I didn't mean-" His cheek stung and Lithuania realized Russia had slapped him. Everything was happening so fast…_

"_Liar…" He sneered. He gripped Toris's haw harder and he flinched. Lithuania stared fearfully into his eyes. Russia was grinning now, his lips were stretching at the corners and Lithuania couldn't keep himself from shuddering. "You look beautiful like this, Toris. Now won't you say it?"_

"_I…"_

_Toris shut his eyes._

_Why?_

"_I love you."_

_Everyone disappeared and the crimson had vanished as well, but Toris didn't have the will to get up from his spot on the cold, empty ground._

The dream was vivid in his mind but Lithuania knew it was nothing more than an illusion—a lurid one.

He fiercely believed it was impossible that the fragile nation in his arms right now would ever… Would ever turn back to his _old self._ He would never let it happen.

He found reassurance in embracing Ivan. There was no way he will ever lose hope in the other—no dream or memory will ever change that.

Russia was completely quiet now. Lithuania had already blanketed him with all he had. He tenderly placed his hands on both his shoulders and distanced himself enough to fully look at him.

Ivan timidly looked up, his eyes were clear now but his cheeks were still flushed. Toris thought he could see the expanding cracks behind those amethysts—he'll fix them in do time, he had to. He opened his mouth to say something but a knock from the door interrupted him.

Russia got up to answer it.

-x-X-x-

Lithuania really wasn't sure about whom he should be suspecting. He wasn't even sure why he was in a hospital ward in the first place.

So it was no wonder he was surprised to see Poland who stepped in.

"Liet!" He almost screamed. "It took you forever!" He stomped over to him and Lithuania had the feeling he was going to have a lot to deal with after this.

"I- You! You told me you weren't going to kill yourself and look-!" He threw out his arms in emphasis, "-You fracture your skull in _two_ separate spots!"

Toris's hands flew to his head. Instead of finding bare skin, he felt bandages that were wrapped around his head several times.

"W-what?" He glanced between the two. "What happened?"

Poland blinked and lowered his arms. "So like… You don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

Feliks was giving him a serious look. "Prussia… He attacked you… And you totally got knocked out. Everyone was, like, really worried you know."

Lithuania closed his eyes. Prussia… Prussia… That's right. He intruded in his home and there were knives and…

"I have to get out of here," Lithuania decided out loud, kicking away at the sheets.

Poland jumped. "W-what? Are you nuts? You can't go!"

Toris ignored him as he threw off the rest of the covers, ripped the single IV tube from his arm (_what the hell? _It wasn't _that_ serious, was it?), and got out of bed. He barely made one step when his knees buckled from lack of use and he was sent toppling to the ground.

Russia caught him just in time. Lithuania clung to his sleeves for support as he tried to inch towards the wall.

"Poland is right. You're not well, da?"

"Well?" Lithuania said, incredulous. "W-what are you even doing here? You're the one who's not well! I just hit my head a few times. I don't have time to lie around in a hospital!" Blood began to rush from his head as he struggled to make progress.

"D-Damn it…" Lithuania said as he nodded off, fading into unconsciousness again.

Russia stood there with a blacked out Lithuania in his arms, dumbfounded. An awkward moment passed until he finally placed Toris back into his bed.

"Toris is…"

"… A total pain in the butt," Poland grumbled.

-x-X-x-

He knew he was going to be in trouble after the _incident, _but that didn't stop Prussia's irritation from growing because of Germany's _damn_ preaching.

"You told me you knew what you were doing," Germany growled. In his hand was a very large hardcover book and he wanted nothing more than to chuck it at Gilbert's head.

Prussia pinched the bridge of his nose. "I _did_ know what I was doing but I didn't expect for _him_ to show up, okay? I was taking it easy on both of them—I could've killed them all if I wanted to. That bastard screwed everything up." He punched the surface of the table they were sitting at in frustration.

Germany eyed him, unfazed of his outburst. "So what's your plan now?"

Prussia looked away. "I'm working on that," he mumbled.

Germany rested his forehead against his palms. "_God damn it,_ Gilbert. I should have never even let you go through with it. Look what you've done—Lithuania's obligated to declare war on you once he recovers. What were you even hoping for when you invaded and attacked him in his own home?"

"I got carried away."

"_Carried away? _He's in a _hospital, _Gilbert. Everyone knows about this and to them, your attack was completely unprovoked!"

"If a war is what it takes, then fine, whatever." Prussia shrugged nonchalantly—his frustration seemed to have already ebbed away. Germany's, however, had not.

"You are _not_ going to go to war over this. There's no way it'll be between just you and Lithuania-"

"Who said it has to be?" Prussia shouted, his aggravation returning, "This isn't just for _them, _you know_. _That Russian bastard stripped me of my land, my _pride._ I want to see him at my feet _begging_ for mercy along with that damn Lithuanian. If anyone else gets in my way, I'll take them down too."

"So," Ludwig said quietly, "you're willing to endanger millions of innocents for revenge?"

Prussia barked out in harsh laughter. "Since when has that ever stopped any of us from getting what we want? It's mutual between everyone. We're only paying for our expenses."

_In human lives, _Germany thought sadly. "They'll destroy you."

"No they won't," Prussia denied simply. "I'll show them, I'll show them all."

Ludwig wasn't sure about what _he_ himself should do. If he were to join the "other" side, he would be fighting against Prussia. If he remained neutral, he would be forced to watch several nations tear each other apart just like the countless other times in the past. And if he joined Prussia in conquest, he would be assisting in the slaughter of millions more people.

Gilbert got up when Germany didn't say anything. He stuffed his hands into his pocket as he kicked the chair aside.

"What do you expect me to do?" Germany finally sighed.

He turned towards the exit. He answered, "Whatever you want to do, West." And he was gone.

-x-X-x-

"Hey… Are you, uh, okay?"

Russia was pulled back into reality. "…I'm fine…"

Poland continued to look at him in concern, "Well I think Liet did have a point, like how he said you needed your rest too."

He stood up so suddenly that Poland flinched. "Da… I'll go… outside for some air."  
_His words sound so disconnected and empty_, Poland noted. _I wonder what happened?_

Though instead of asking aloud, Feliks only nodded and Russia left the room, leaving the two alone.

Ivan covered his mouth as soon as he was out of sight. Bile gathered and filled his throat as he disgorged over the nearest trashcan. Stomach acid dripped from the corner of his mouth and he wiped it away in disgust.

He couldn't even stand his own fake smiles anymore.

He hated hospitals. He hated this atmosphere.

The hallway he was standing in was pure white—it was so _impersonal_. The nauseating stench of rubbing alcohol and various other drugs wafted from the other hospital wards and into his nose. He needed to get out of here.

There were very few people who were still left in the building, so no one noticed Ivan run out the front entrance.

He took in a deep breath of the clean air, clearing his mind. His limbs began to weaken however, and he assumed it was from the regurgitation. He quickly made his way over the parking lot and collapsed into softer grass of the nearby park.

Russia closed his eyes as he let the thin blades of grass tickle his face. The leaves from above filtered the light from the afternoon sun, leaving splashes of sunlight all over his lying form. His pulse slowed down to a steady rhythm as he calmed himself.

_This is nice, _Russia decided. Everything around him was a piece of Lithuania—it was his home after all. This is where Toris belongs.

Ivan reopened his eyes to take in his surroundings. The sound of motors was barely audible and all that was left to hear were the gentle rustlings of the foliage and the occasional songbird.

He wasn't exactly sure on how long he was lying there completely motionless—but it must've been long enough for a single bird to figure it was safe to approach him. It hopped closer, cocking its head to study the strange object that was Ivan. It let out a long, warbling chirp and Ivan found himself talking to it.

"_Ptitsa… _How foolish of you to approach something much larger than you."

The tiny bird responded with a pivot of its head.

"… But fools are never afraid. Silly isn't it?"

The bird hopped a few times again. The brown-feathered creature was now close enough for Russia to make out its amber-colored iris. It pecked at his frozen hand too see if the leather material covering it was anything useful. When it found out that it wasn't, the bird took a small set of hops backwards.

Russia's hand twitched as he lifted it from the grass, reaching towards the bird. It let out a startled _squawk_ as it flapped away to alight on the nearest tree branch, eyeing him warily. Ivan 's arm lifted itself higher in its direction even though the animal was far from reach.

"You're so unkind to me," he said lightly, staring at his own outstretched fingers. It seemed so redundant and sickeningly ironic for him. His eyes moved passed his fingers to look back at the bird, which was bobbing its tail, until it finally flitted away.

The sound of rustling footsteps made him turn his head in the opposite direction.

Lithuania was standing not too far from him, still dressed in those dreary hospital clothes. His ever-present green blazer (which had already been cleaned of its bloodstains) was draped over his shoulders. He stepped forward and Russia noticed the scratches at the bottom of his bare feet.

However, it was the melancholic expression on Lithuania's face that made his heart skip a beat.

"They let you go?"

"The room was empty when I woke up, " he answered softly even though there was no one around to hear.

Russia attempted to push himself off the ground, but a sharp pain shot through his elbow and he collapsed into the grass again, heaving deep breaths from the effort. So his strength was fading this fast…  
Lithuania set himself besides him and buried his fingers through his hair. Ivan shivered at the touch as he shifted himself closer. He tentatively raised a hand to touch the bandages that were surrounding the top half of Toris's forehead.

"This…"

Toris closed his eyes, hiding his green irises from view. "They'll heal…"

"… And leave scars," Russia finished indifferently.

Lithuania suddenly grabbed his hand and opened his eyes. Tears clung to the corners but they didn't fall.

"Wounds… Scars… Since when have they ever stopped me from protecting you!?" His hands were shaking violently yet he still refused to let any tears fall. "I told you… Have faith in me…"

Russia's eyes softened. _So that was it all along…_

He didn't respond but the both of them knew words were no longer needed.

The sun dipped below the horizon, dying the sky in brilliant shades of gold and purple.  
It didn't seem very long until an evening bird whisked itself into sight and landed in front of them, tilting its head curiously.

"Oh… ž_virblis," _Lithuania said, "A sparrow. Back then, Feliks and I often had to chase them away because they ate the rye from our crops. They were good for company on those lonely mornings, though. " He held out a hand and the feathered creature inspected it for a moment before flying away. A few other birds that were hidden from view until now joined it.

"The rye fields…" His voice was filled with nostalgia. "Things were so simple back then, weren't they Russia?"

"Da…" Truth be told, the only thing he could remember about his own childhood was the metallic taste of gore and blackened iron in his mouth. The crosshatching marks on his neck tingled but he paid no mind to them—they didn't matter to him anymore.

This was enough for Ivan—it wouldn't matter to him if his life suddenly ended here, surrounded by _this._

"…Yes, it was."

**-x-X-x-**

Phew, that's the fourth chapter. Lets hope the next one is actually on time lD'. I was working on this for a while but I gut so distracted over the weekend… baw. I really rushed on the proofreading part~

This chapter is so bipolar orz. I hope it isn't too noticeable. I tried to cram some actual LietRus stuff in here because_ that's what this_ _story is about, _so there will definitely be more in the future.

Some notes:  
_**Ptitsa-**_ Russian for "bird".  
_**žvirbli**_- Lithuanian for "sparrow".

Somewhere around 1220, the Mongols invaded Russia and killed roughly a half of its population. Because of the Mongol occupation, Russia was prevented from advancing and participating in the Renaissance (poor thing).

Oh, it's not really relevant to the story but I thought I should share. I'm not sure if I got the ancient Mongols confused with another civilization, but after they were done ransacking a village, the Mongols would force their prisoners to march in front of them so if a defending town or city fired at them, they would hit the villagers instead of the actual Mongols.

Clever but brutal :U. Feel free for any corrections~ (I ramble too much in my author notes* 300 word AN, wtf, Kaisre )

Hoped you liked it~


	5. Filler: From the Fields

*extremely short update*

. . .

**Filler: From the Fields**

"Toris, you shouldn't stay inside, da? You need more light—look how pale you are!" Russia was literally dragging Lithuania out the front door.

"Eh!?" What had gotten into Ivan these days? Yesterday, he was all gloom and doom, and _now_… God, he didn't even know what was going on. "B-but the paperwork…!"

Russia laughed genuinely, and Lithuania couldn't help but smile along with him. "Don't worry, Toris~ It'll just be for today."

Toris gave in, sighing, but he still had that amused expression on his face. "Oh, all right. What are you planning?" He looked at him in mock suspicion and Russia only smiled that the small childish smile down at him.

Earlier, Lithuania _knew_ there was something going on when Russia approached him with nothing but his trademark scarf, khaki casual pants, and a solid-black short-sleeved dress shirt. He wasn't exactly at the top of his health yet, but he seemed to be really enthusiastic about something—that was a first and he figured he shouldn't press his luck.

"You'll see. Isn't the weather nice, Lithuania?" He looked up and Toris followed his gaze.

The sky was clear—no clouds blocked out any of its bright-blue brilliance.

"… Yeah. It rained a couple days ago; it's funny how you can still sort of smell it."

The two were on the streets now. It must've been a funny sight for a grown man to be leading another grown man behind him by the hand. A few pedestrians gave them funny looks and Lithuania resisted the urge to stop and explain.

Lithuania wasn't sure where they were at the moment, but it seemed to be somewhere in Russia. The lettering on the signs was in Cyrillic with the occasional Russian word spelled with Romanic lettering. Inside, he was pleased to see that Ivan's people were doing better.

Ivan made a sudden turn, still dragging him along. Lithuania avoided tripping over the curb from the change of direction. "Will you tell me now?" He tried hopefully.

Russia shook his head. "_Net,_ you'll see!"

"We could've taken the car, you know," Toris almost laughed. Ivan shook his head again.

"It's better to walk."

Several minutes passed and the buildings of the unknown city disappeared. They were in a rural area, Lithuania figured.

"Close your eyes," Ivan instructed. Toris complied, shutting his eyes tight.

"_Come on, Liet!" Poland whined shoving his palms against Lithuania's face. "Close them! Close them!"_

"_F-fine… I think you're gonna poke my eyes out, Feliks." He guessed he was sticking his tongue out at him but of course he didn't see Poland's actual expression since his eyes were closed._

_The blond led him through patches of untamed grass and bushes of unknown plants. Thorns snagged against his clothes but Poland didn't really give him a chance to free himself properly as he dragged him on._

_Then they stopped. "Shhh…" Feliks warned. Then in a hushed whisper, "You can open your eyes now, Liet."_

_Bushes and shrubs and trees sheltered the two of them. Ahead of them in a clearing were two deer— a mother doe and her fawn. She took no notice to the two children watching her as she liked away at her own child's brown hide._

"_Isn't this totally cool?" Poland asked, clearly excited about the scene._

"_Y-yeah," Lithuania replied. He had to admit, the animals were fascinating to him._

"_They remind me of you~!"_

_Toris flushed. "W-what? How—?" Poland tugged gently at his hair. "It's the same color, see?"_

_They fell silent when the doe stood up facing in their general direction. The fawn ran up a few steps towards them and the mother made no move to stop it._

"_Talk to it," Poland urged. Lithuania looked at him, baffled._

_"What? I can't talk to deer!" He protested._

"_You can talk to birds," he pointed out._

_Lithuania blinked. "No I can't! What makes you think that?"_

"_Every morning they fly to you and you like, feed them and everything—"_

"—_that's because I'm _feedin_g them, Poland—"_

"—_and they listen to you when you talk in that funny language."_

_Lithuania was about to lecture him about his "funny language" but he was too busy wondering what had gotten into Feliks to convince him that he talked to birds. Okay, maybe he did, but who said they actually understood him? He thought they were just there for the bread. Maybe the tiny animals would walk up to Poland too if he'd stop grabbing at them at every opportunity he got. _

_This was getting silly but Feliks didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon._

_He sighed. "Hello," he said nervously to the young deer. "Uh, I'm Toris and this is Feliks." It stared at him with those large black eyes before trotting back to its mother. They gave them one last look before walking away in the opposite direction. He swore Poland was going to make fun of him for this later._

"We're here, you can open them."

Lithuania noticed it was quiet except for the gentle wind rustling the wildlife. Tentatively, he opened his eyes and took a moment to adjust to the light.

It was beautiful.

Before him was an endless stretch of golden yellow accompanied by specks of black. Gray mountains were visible on the far horizon with their snow-capped peaks. The sun was behind them, casting lanky shadows over the sunflowers.

They were standing on a short ledge, overlooking the golden fields. Russia hopped down, sending flower petals into the air. He offered a hand and Lithuania wasted no time in accepting it.

He pulled him down before he was ready, though. "Ah- Ivan!" He cried out in shock as he landed on the larger man who caught him with his other arm, but they both tumbled onto the soft loam anyway.

Toris rolled off of him to check if he was all right, but Ivan was only laughing softly, his cheeks brightening with color.

"I used to take my sisters here too. It was a long time ago since my summers have been cold for the past years. The flowers never grew this tall," Russia explained. It didn't take more than a moment for Toris to understand what he was talking about. Ivan continued, "The sunflowers get taller near the center," he pointed his finger in the opposite direction from the ledge even though they couldn't see them—they were still lying with their backs to the ground.

Looking up at the towering flower heads felt overwhelming—it was no wonder Ivan found joy in something so simple.

"It's amazing, Ivan."

He smiled and Toris wanted the world to stop for that one smile. "They have flowers in Lithuania too, da?"

"Yeah, I'll show you them sometime," _when this is all over._

"That'd be nice…"

Toris nodded and turned his face towards the sky, indulging in the pure bliss. He didn't even notice his own fingers intertwine with Ivan's.

There they were, in his sanctuary, lying in the fields away from the rest of the world.

Maybe for just for today, Lithuania didn't have to worry about his problems. Maybe just for today, everything was perfect.

And maybe just for today, Ivan was the sunflower and he was the sun.

**-x-X-x-**

Eh, bad news everyone. I'm on a ginormous writing block and… ugh. I started on the fifth chapter (the one that relates the plotline) but I am… disgusted with it x-X So I dumped it. It just feels extremely dull to me.

Anyways, I didn't want to go through a week without any activity, so here's a filler. It's the same setting as the main story but it has no relation to the plot so what happened here probably won't be mentioned again in the future.

Next chapter will relate to the plot, but rather than progressing the storyline, it'll be strengthening the back story… so yes, Chapter 5 will have a lot of Ivan XD

Unless I get out of my block. Ideas and suggestion are so very welcome ;-;

I apologize for getting your hopes up about this. Ahh –headwall-  
(I'm on an art block as well, lucky me. )


	6. Chapter V

Chapter contains violence and drug-use.

- - -

_Ah! what is not a dream by day_

_To him whose eyes are cast_

_On things around him with a ray_

_Turned back upon the past?  
_

**Chapter V**

"Ah, Braginski sir? It seems the administrators have not agreed on anything yet… Things don't look very good right now."

Russia surveyed the young man in front of him through the visor of his uniform hat. The dark blonde couldn't be more than twenty-five years old. "I see… No word from Tarasov?" The president was supposed to have returned from his goodwill trip to America today.

"No, not yet…" The man—what was his name? Dmitri? —Shifted uncomfortably. Ivan couldn't help but smile through his laced fingers in amusement. He shrugged in a mock attempt to ease the troubled secretary.  
"We won't have to worry though, da? I'm sure Sergei will speak to us soon. The people are frightened and I myself am afraid without his guidance. What do you think, Dmitri?"

The secretary straightened his slouching stance. "M-me?" He asked incredulously, "I-I'm not sure if I'm important enough for my opinion to matter with all due respect, sir."

Ivan only burst out in laughter causing the smaller man to violently jump. "S-sir? What's so funny?"

Russia wiped the meager tears from his eyes as he looked up at him again. "Who is a father who does not listen to his children? You're very modest, but that's good. If you're not going to change your mind, then you may leave. I have a lot of matters to attend to…"

Dmitri looked down at the floor. "If it's not too late, sir…"

"Yes?" Russia pressed almost kindly.

"I have family in Yakustk. The towns and cities are growing poorer and poorer in the east and I'm worried about them. I hope the government will be able to sort it out soon—if not then… I'm afraid—I'm afraid…" he trailed off, uncertain if he should finish.  
If Ivan were standing next to him, he would've laid a hand on his shoulder; but he wasn't, so he had to settle with giving him a sympathetic gaze instead. Dmitri was not the only one. Russia could feel the tension of millions build up in his core—he understood them more than well. Their resources were dwindling and the people were arguing with one another over what was left.

It was painful for a parent to watch their children attack each other over a mangled scrap of bread. Brothers slit the necks of brothers and sisters stabbed the back of sisters.

When would this era of pain be over?

- - - - - - - - -

Russia was at his desk again, quietly contemplating the charts of his falling economy and the rising oil prices. It was funny how his _alternate_ sources of fuel were taking advantage of his demands—no—needs. This couldn't go on for very long.

They needed to drill faster.

The phone anchoring a stack of papers to his desk rang and he answered it with a slow, uninterested hand. The constant downpour of bad news was making him lethargically dull.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Braginski, sir? Berliavskii is still missing from last week. We can't find him. Uh… the Council and Administration are considering he committed suicide."

"I see…"

"Uhm, and that's not it," He sounded harassed. No surprise there after seeing all the unfortunate events that had happened in a span of seven days: an influential member of the Security Council had disappeared without a trace, an uprising in Aldan left five people dead—two of which who worked for the government; the rest, civilians.  
"Golovkin didn't show up today or yesterday for the mandatory meetings. The last time he was seen by the rest of the Administration was when he walked out in the middle of a gathering four days ago."

"Is that so? What steps are the Investigation squad taking?"

"They're searching every area that has a connection to him, sir- oh, excuse me for a second."

For a moment, all Russia heard was murmuring in the background.

"Golovkin's wife was found washed ashore of the Volga. The people who found her discovered a bullet hole in the back of her head. Suicide is unlikely but the specialists said they couldn't say for sure. They think it may be a cover up—an autopsy will be completed tomorrow."

Russia nodded to himself absentmindedly. This was unfortunate indeed but how many times had he lived through enough conspiracies and murders to drive a stake of apathy through him?

This was merely another tally etched into the wall.

"I see. Golovkin may be involved. Continue the investigation as planned; I'll see what I can do. Is that all?"

"Yes sir."

"Good day then."

Ivan hung up and reclined back in his chair. It wasn't difficult to say he was occupied at the very least.

His mind wandered to the other countries. He wondered how they were doing. He wondered if they were all enjoying watching him struggle—he wouldn't be surprised if they were. After all, it is to be expected of _them_—their behaviors were very predictable, yet they still managed to baffle him at the same time.

It was Lithuania however, who intrigued him the most. His brothers suffered several riots, leaving many dead—It was Lithuania who was kind enough to help steady themselves. That was to be expected of him as well, but he did not assume for a moment that Lithuania would take the two under his wing.

A proposition like that was very much unlike him. Yet, he still received praise and encouragement for the action.

How things had been very different for Ivan when he did the same thing.

The others were very peculiar indeed.

- - - - - - - - -

It was a quiet day.

Paranoia still caused the back of his neck to prickle, though.

The young man, Dmitri, was working in his house today. Things have been fairly uneventful which was probably the most he could hope for.

Almost a month had passed since the first member of the Council disappeared. There were no more leads after the last murder so the investigators were left to fumble around in the dark. Russia himself didn't know where his staff had gone. The loose explanation he adopted involved the two allegedly resigning out of cowardice. Suicide, like the remaining staff had said, was a likely explanation as well.

It wasn't that Ivan really blamed any of them. He learned that ordinary humans were rather frail and brittle by nature. Very few times had he met someone otherwise.

Well… there was no point to mull over bleak topics when he was granted a rare moment of peace.

Russia got up from his seat. His legs cramped from lack of use but he ignored them as he made his way tp the half-opened liquor cabinet.

It seemed he was running low on vodka. He reminded himself to go out sometime and resupply himself.

He only started to reach out his hand when-

_Pain._

White hot, burning pain.

It was as if someone was driving a glowing poker through the back of his skull. Russia gasped out in shock as he held his head in his hands but they proved to be of little comfort.

The pain was growing stronger and it showed no signs of stopping. He screamed as his vision dyed over to the same color of his eyelids.

Something hard collided with his spine and he didn't even realize he had stumbled backwards, crashing into the bookshelf. Russia fell to his knees and then to his side.

Then it felt as if something had entered his chest to constrict his lungs. He gasped out, desperate for air.

Panic, fear, and agony flashed in his mind, drowning out everything else. What was happening? Why was it happening? Why isn't it stopping?  
Helplessness began to take over as Russia realized he couldn't do anything about what was happening to him.

The pain subsided enough for his vision to return. His pupils burned as he tried to gain awareness. His fingers clawed at his ribs as if he was trying to tear open his own chest to make room for his lungs.

Someone entered his study. He couldn't turn his neck to see who it was. They were probably standing over him, asking him if he was all right—it's not like Russia knew for sure anyways.

His whole body was left to convulse and throb. He eagerly embraced the soothing darkness when it came.

- - - - - - - - -

Ivan was alone when he woke up. He had not moved from his spot on the rough carpet. He blinked, trying to rid his vision of stars as he sat up. That was a mistake however, since his head began to swim. He slumped against the front of his desk for support.

Through the slits of his eyes, Russia saw several sheets of paper, broken glass, and heavy books sprawled open everywhere—no doubt it was from him.

He noticed the door was closed. That was strange—he vaguely remembered someone entering his office at the time of his episode. It was true, he was in a state of severe pain but he was sure it wasn't a part of his imagination either.

Russia grasped onto the corner of his desk to force himself up. A dull pain pulsated from his heart and he grimaced. He reached for the phone and dialed, the call didn't make it through, however. He tried again, no success. It seemed the line outside had been damaged… Or sabotaged. He dropped the phone, which hit the desk with a clatter.

He tried the radio next. He received nothing but white noise.

_Ah… This is very, very strange._

He opened the door to the rest of his house. The air smelled drafty and of something else…

...It smelled of gun smoke and rubber.

It was a shame he didn't have his pipe with him… He left it on the dining room table, didn't he?

His slow and cautious footsteps were silent as he walked to the center of his bare living room. The house was eerily silent itself.

His violet eyes were cold and searching.

"How long have you been here?" Russia asked aloud. There was a sharp _click _behind him.

"We've just arrived. I was going to search your office next. That's where Alexandrov said he left you," the voice off a middle-aged man answered.

"Oh, Dmitri?" Russia asked casually, seemingly unfazed. He turned around to look at the missing Security Council member. "So it was you then? You were the one who assassinated Tarasov."

Berliavskii still had the pistol pointed at Russia. "Sergei was unfit to rule over this country. It's a shame I had to end it that way but he refused to resign peacefully. "

So it was true then. He admitted it. Ivan wasn't mistaken…

"So you shot the prime minister as well?" He found himself disliking people more and more by the second. There were several more pairs of heavy footsteps behind him but he didn't bother to look.

"They were two idle fools. No one was afraid for either of their deaths. They let the East reduce themselves to what they are now—I'm planning to fix everything."

_He's mad, _Russia noted. Someone came up from behind him, gripped his neck and threw him to his knees. Ivan found little strength to retaliate. So his children were turning against him as well now.

The ex-Council member lowered himself to his level. He leered, flashing an ugly grin before pistol-whipping Ivan directly in the face.

Russia didn't falter as blood and spit splattered against the floor. Warm liquid dribbled from his nose and pooled at the corners of his mouth as he smiled. Berliavskii's own grin dropped as he knocked Russia to his side. Despite the burning pain on his face, he could only laugh.

They were all useless.

- - - - - - - - -

Russia woke up for the second time that day (or was the day already over?).

He was confined to a dank and poorly lit room. The clammy air made his skin twitch. Ivan recognized it as one of his own chambers where he had locked Lithuania in several times before—how dreadfully ironic.

He must be laughing at him now. It was the turn of the century, and here he was—strapped to a bench and hooked up with several tubes that led to ominous-looking monitors; by his own people for that matter.

Russia realized he couldn't move his limbs at all even though his bindings were fairly loose. They were drugging him into helplessness.

He didn't receive enough satisfaction from imagining Berliavskii's disfigurement. Something feral stirred within his core as Ivan thought about how ungrateful his people were.

"Ah, Toris… Are you happy now? This is what you've wished for isn't it?"

- - - - - - - - -

Several times over, masked men would enter the room only to stab him in the neck with various syringes. Ivan guessed they were only more narcotics to keep him under "control". He was to blindly receive the drugs whether he wanted them or not. He couldn't even make out whom these people were. His eyes watered from the constant exposure to the light that was placed over his head.

When they appeared to be finished, they would quietly leave only to return the next day—needles in hand.

- - - - - - - - -

An immeasurable amount of time passed. Russia was long stripped of his clothes that had probably been discarded onto the floor.

A flimsy cloth was tossed over his middle for a replacement. Fresh lacerations littered his chest. They didn't even bother to bandage them up, leaving the cuts to bleed out.

Sometimes when the morphine had worn off enough, he would struggle against his bindings, shouting out curses in Russian.

Sometimes a hand would've taken him by the face and smash his head against the hard surface of the bench. Then he would receive a sharp jab in his neck, causing the pain to ebb away along with his sanity.

_Slowly, Slowly…_

Someone entered and Russia found his body tense up like a frightened animal.

He tried to think who it might be, but Ivan had already forgotten their names a long time ago.

For some time—he lost his sense of time a while ago as well—the shadowy figure stood over him, his face hidden by the blinding light.  
Finally, he demanded, "Who is 'Toris'?"

Ivan remained silent, wishing this person would leave him.

Something collided with his mouth and he tasted copper.

"I said," the voice hissed, "_who is 'Toris'?" _ Fingers reached out from the surrounding darkness, gripping his jaw forcefully.

"Tor-is?" Ivan managed to rasp.

His mouth was struck for a second time and he grimaced, swallowing a mouthful of saliva and blood.

"Yes _Toris._ I've been told you've been screaming that name every time my men operated on you. Who is it?"

"It seems I have forgotten…"

"_Lies!"_

There was a searing pain in his abdomen and Russia realized he had just been stabbed with one of the surgical knives. The instrument was ripped out and positioned between two of his ribs threateningly.

"If you were like one of us, you would've eventually died from that wound. How many of these will you be able to handle, though? _So…_ I'm asking you again, _who is Toris?"_

Ivan chose not to answer. He cried out in agony as the thin blade pierced through his right lung.

His face was brought down close to his now. "You're so stubborn. No one is coming to rescue you. I'll make sure no one else will share in the paradise I'll create. You're trapped here until you agree to serve me."

Through the blinding pain, Russia found the strength to spit in his face.

He had already braced himself when his side was slashed open.

"I want you to give him a more concentrated dose." He cast him a disgusted look before whirling around and exiting.

Ivan almost accepted the anesthesia willingly. Almost.

- - - - - - - - -

His eyelids felt heavy when the needle was slipped out from under his skin. Whatever they injected him with caused his veins to sear but at least the three incisions had clotted—he wouldn't have to worry about bleeding to death any time soon.

Aside from his shuddering breaths, it was quiet in the room—he was alone once again.

Or at least he thought he was. Through the light, Russia noticed a green figure at the corner of his eye. His tormentors always wore white, so who…?

"Lithuania…?"

"You don't look well, Russia," his warm voice murmured. Ivan thought he could survive on the sound of his voice alone—it was so sweet.

"Ah, perhaps not."

His fingers fumbled over the buckles. "I can't free you…"

Russia ignored his exhaustion as he struggled to remain awake. "Of course not." For some reason, he didn't find it strange that Lithuania was with him in a place like this.

Toris's fingers brushed Ivan's hair lightly—oh so lightly—as he placed a soft kiss on his forehead. It was so light that he barely felt it. The ghost of his breath lingered on his face.

"Ah, it seems that someone is here to see you," Lithuania said abruptly as Russia heard faint footsteps from beyond the door.

The knob clicked and turned and the door creaked open. Whoever it was found only a single person to be there.

"Who have you been talking to?" A heavily accented voice asked. Ah… What was his name again? It was Yao, wasn't it? Something from the back of his mind told him Yao was someone just like him. He couldn't say for sure, his memory had been gradually deteriorating since the day he was first confined.

"Only to myself," Russia answered impassively. "Who are you?"

The light clicked off and darkness flooded his vision for a moment. When he finally got used to the dimness, he craned his neck to see who it was. "You don't recognize me?"

The man was short and thin (though perhaps not as thin as him). "So it is you."

China frowned. "Yes, it's me. I thought you would be a little happier to see me instead of _them_."

Russia disregarded what he just said. "Why are you here?"

His frown deepened. "I'm just trying to help you. Ivan, why are you fighting? You don't have to go through this. Both Berliavskii and Golovkin need your cooperation to end the war. "

Russia ignored the pain in his abdomen and side as he chuckled. The names sounded familiar but he didn't bother to try and search his weakening memory. "I'm in no position to choose any sides, Yao. I'm afraid I've already lost myself. If you're here to lecture me, I suggest you leave. I don't think my mind can take it anymore."

China tapped the crude bandaging on his middle. "I don't approve of their methods but…"

"You would sympathize with dictators rather than with me," Ivan finished for him. "Don't feel guilty, I've received more _shattering_ treatment."

China snatched back his hand. He understood the insult hidden beneath the mild tones. He didn't reply when he turned to leave. The door slammed behind him.

Russia sighed. "That was a very short visit."

"I think you had something to do with that, Russia," Lithuania said. "Maybe Mr. China really did want to help."

"You heard everything?"

"You know I did."

"I see. Well they are all foolish. I'm only trying to keep my people from perishing in this madman's war. Even if they are ungrateful and depraved, I must try my best to help them."

Lithuania cupped his cheek with a ghostly (yet somehow warm) hand. "So you really do care about them."

- - - - - - - - -

Lithuania was standing over him as he shook feverishly. Today had been a particularly bad day. He guessed it must've been punishment for his unceasing defiance—the small area of skin near his right side had been excoriated.

There was no more energy left in him to look down to see how bad his exposed muscles had scabbed over.

Toris traced the horrific wound with gentle fingers. He was surprised to feel no pain from the touch itself.

"Oh Ivan…"

He wanted nothing more than to rest against Lithuania's arms instead of this hard bench. However, the accursed constrictions made most physical contact between them impossible.

As if reading his mind, Toris placed his hand over Ivan's comfortingly. Even though he had been deprived of his regular injections of narcotics, he couldn't bring himself to do as much as move his fingers in response.

"Toris," it sounded like more of a plea than he had intended. "Toris," he tried again.

Lithuania wasn't there anymore.

- - - - - - - - -

Russia found himself craving the drugs that were being imbued into his bloodstream more and more. He realized that they helped clarify Lithuania's form along with his voice. Seeing him clearly meant he didn't have to be alone in this.

"You're all I have," he said after the others left.

Toris eyed his thinning body. "You can't go on like this. Why did you tell them to cut off your feed? Even before, you were barely given enough nutrients to prevent starvation."

He gave him a sickly grin. "So you won't leave me," he replied simply.

"I think you've lost your sanity, Ivan."

"I know." He repeated, "You're all I have."

- - - - - - - - -

"Russia, today's going to be different."

He stirred from his sleep. "How so?" He managed to croak. His limbs felt so stiff—he longed to stretch them out. As he thought of that, he noticed that his bindings felt slightly looser than usual.

"Mr. China came in again while you were sleeping. I think he tampered with the buckles and the anesthesia. Well that's what he was mumbling to himself about." Lithuania shrugged. That explained the obscure words Russia barely heard in his dreams.

He made a move to sit up. "No don't!" He stopped, looking up at Lithuania for an explanation. "You should save your energy. Take him when he least expects it." Toris pointed at the long surgical knife that was left on top of one of the monitors.

"And here I thought you were the peaceful one…" There was a dull tapping emanating from the hallway.

Lithuania's grin was sharp and cruel—it matched Ivan's perfectly. "Here he comes. Don't hold back—rip open that face as much as you'd like. " The footsteps steadily grew louder. "Make him pay, Ivan. I won't stop you."

A beam of light fell over his form when the door opened.

"Does the dog still bite?" It was a taunt.

Russia mumbled something. He shaped his voice into something defeated to mask his actual intention. His right hand twitched in vengeful anticipation. Not yet…

_Closer, Closer…_

"So this is the level he has fallen to?" It was a different voice from the first. Russia barely found it familiar—it was definitely younger than the former though. "How pitiful," the voice sneered, "to see the great Motherland like this."

"I guess I didn't need your help after all," the first voice laughed, "the war is as good as done—Golovkin is dead. Isn't that right, Alexandrov?" Ah yes, Dmitri Alexandrov… That's who he was. The first person who assisted in throwing him into this _hell _was in the same room with him_. _How delightful. He could hardly control his fingers now.

The older man was bending over him, delivering more taunting words to his face, "All that you've been fighting for has been a waste. I told you from the beginning, you should've given up. It could've saved you ten years worth of suffering." So a decade had passed ever since—he would've never even realized. Ivan resisted the growing urge. No, not yet… He couldn't mess this one chance up.

For a split second, his eyes darted to the second man. His attention was curiously focused on the several monitors and his back was facing him, unprotected—perfect.

Russia mumbled something, bringing the first man obscenely close. His arms snaked from beneath the bondage with unnatural stealth. His cold fingers merged with the equally cold metal.

_Careful, Careful…_

"What was that? Have you been struck dumb now?" He hissed.

Russia replied by carving a duplicate smirk below his Adam's apple. With unnerving speed, he grasped the top of his neck and _squeezed_, completely blocking his passage from making any sound. The corners of Ivan's mouth pulled into a smile as he gazed with fascination into the bulging eyes, struggling limbs, and pooling blood.

Russia dropped him with a dull _thud_ when he stopped moving.

Satisfaction squirmed within him as he shuddered.

He slid from underneath the buckles and gathered his strength into his knees as he stepped onto solid ground. The world wavered, but he silently advanced towards the oblivious one anyway.

He resisted the urge to giggle. The man named Alexandrov was still unaware of the fresh corpse that was lying right behind him.

He turned around at the last moment, "Berliavskii, sir-" he wasn't given a chance to finish for Russia had already plunged the gore-covered knife through his right eye.

His mouth was frozen in a silent scream. The man was already dead but Ivan twisted the blade in deeper and deeper. Finally he loosened his fingers, allowing the body to drop lifelessly—knife and all.

He tilted his head, his expression full of mirth. His feet and palms were stained red now.

Russia treaded to the corner of the room to pick up his coat and scarf, which he draped around himself. He ignored the stains he left on the beige cloth as he took a loaded pistol from one of their belts before exiting the room—the first time in years.

The clear light burned his eyes at first, but it didn't take long before he got used to it.

"Hey Toris…"

_Bang._ Someone dropped to the floor, blood gathering around his head. Others followed suite.

"Today is going to be a good day-"

_Bang Bang. _Fingers separated from their now-dead owner.

"Because…"

One last soldier remained. He scrambled for the front door and Russia made sure he heard his last words.

"…This war is over now."

- - - - - - - - -

A great pile of ash served as their makeshift grave. Hours earlier he had tossed _every_ reminder of his ordeal into the flames. The sparks that flew from the dying machinery had long died out and the guns the dead soldiers had carried with them were nothing more than shapeless lumps of twisted metal lying in the ashes.

Ivan left the incinerated remains for his room, gathering bottles of vodka along the way—he still gave off the stench of melted rubber and burning flesh.

When he reached his own room, he drank.

And drank.

As depression set in, he threw an empty bottle across the room. He half-expected Lithuania to reappear by his side to soothe him, congratulate him. He was alive now, was he not?

It wasn't long before Ivan drained every bottle. Fatigue began to take its toll. He curled up on his bed, wrapping his arms around the night.

**-x-X-x-**

Confusing chapter is confusing.  
*Dies from exhaustion* Dear god, I am so tired x-x

My block is slowly getting better.

I have state testing tomorrow orz. Wish me luck? o3o Ill be taking a short break so I can focus on the exams, k?

Ah crap, I almost forgot. To all anon reviewers; thank you for your support! I would tell you all that personally but… yeah xD'


	7. Chapter VI

Lithuania?

Why don't you smile anymore?

…I'm sorry…

Maybe if you'd like,

I can be your only pawn

This time.

* * *

**Chapter VI**

It didn't take long for him to notice that the warm glow was ebbing away from the beryl orbs.

Often, he would meet Lithuania at his desk and cling to his arm, desperate to let him know _he was still there_.  
But deep inside, Russia found trying to retain that unmistakable warmth was like trying to cup water with broken hands—the pristine liquid would slowly but surely trickle through the immutable cracks.

Lithuania hated war, Russia was sure of this. No doubt mobilizing for it would take this sort of toll on the smaller man. More than once did he ignore his own desire for vengeance to draw the other out of his qualm for the others.

"Toris, you can't go on like this."

Lithuania didn't respond for he was already sleeping with his head lying against the sprawled sheets of both signed and unsigned documents. His cap-less pen was still resting between his fingers, the tip long dried-out.

Disregarding the protest in his bones, Russia took the sleeping nation in his arms, trying not to notice the dark circles beneath the other's eyes.

-x-X-x-

Lithuania reckoned several hours had already passed since he first nodded off.

_Augh… the papers… _His hand instinctively reached over for his pen but instead, his fingers met with something soft. Puzzled, his blinked, trying to rid his eyes of sleep. He expected to see the surface of his desk instead of the ceiling—the unexpected change in coordination threw off his sense of balance, causing his head to feel dizzy for a moment.

When his vision finally steadied itself, he peered over to see what he had touched.

Russia was lying right next to him, his face half-concealed by the arm he had thrown over Lithuania's chest to keep him in place.

As he tried to sort out his jumbled thoughts, Russia's own eyes slowly opened, his gaze meeting Lithuania's.

He opened his mouth the answer the silent question that hung in the air. "I didn't want you to hurt your head sleeping like that," Ivan explained innocently, "The doctor told you to be careful without a cast, da?"

Toris nodded, momentarily lost for words. It was true—he had been kept at the hospital for a few days before he was finally released a week ago. Aside from the occasional throbbing, he felt perfectly fine— it wasn't too bad, but he supposed falling asleep against something like the desk wasn't the best way to treat his injury.

"Mmf… thank you," he said, sounding softer than he intended. His throat felt so dry and constricted—honey tea sounded nice. Even though he wanted nothing more than to lie there sipping tea for the remainder of the day with Ivan, there was still work to be done…

He made a move to get up but Russia's concerned gaze stopped him. "You're leaving? You must rest, da?"

Lithuania was thinking of saying something along the lines of "I'm fine" but he doubt it would even convince Russia in the very least. Instead, he went with, "I... I'm busy, someone needs to sign the papers…" _Someone_ meaning him, and him alone. Who else, after all?

"I can bring them up and Toris can work in bed," he offered.

Lithuania tried not to blush as he mentally slapped himself for thinking of _that_. It was totally and _completely _innocent. Ignoring his wishes, his cheeks flushed up anyways.

"Ah…" He wanted to deny but that look Ivan was giving him was making everything harder than it should be.

"You're all red—is Lithuania sick?" He tilted his head, worried.

_Thump – Thump – Thump…_

"Just the stress," Toris said. It was a lie and a bad one at that. What was he thinking? Russia always seemed to be able to see through his fibs like a looking glass.

"Oh? Should I make tea then? Black tea would be good for stress, yes?" The last part was more of a statement to himself rather than a question for Lithuania.

…_.Thump – Thump – Thump…_

Unable to hold out any longer, Lithuania buried his face into the covers and inhaled deeply. "O-okay. You can leave the papers downstairs, though," he gave in.

Russia agreed, clearly more than happy to comply.

-x-X-x-

"…And the higher ups want to negotiate a lower price for the oil and steel. This way, production will be… much… is… requirements… also…"

Toris nodded on and off as he tried to focus on the matters at hand. Normally, he had no problem paying attention to others while they rambled on—especially when their rambles happened to concern important issues, but concentrating proved to be increasingly difficult nowadays. He hoped it wasn't anything permanent.

Lithuania knew better than to get used to the peaceful week. Twenty days ago, the border countries declared neutrality in the case of war. _"We just don't want anything to spread," _they explained; Lithuania wasn't upset nor did he actually care.

Seventeen days ago, he told Poland to secure his borders (his territory held the shortest land route between East Germany and Lithuania after all). He still hated the possibility that Poland might be dragged into the whole mess despite his constant reassurance. _"Don't worry, Liet! Let me help you for once."_

Ten days ago, he began to properly secure his own borders while mobilizing and clearing both his air and navy space. _"Clear the harbors, just in case."_

On the same day, he sent a formal message to Prussia warning against any further advancement. There was no return message and Lithuania couldn't help but feel it was all in vain.

He hated war.

Technically, there _was_ no war, but it still felt like it. The rising tension in his gut constantly bothered him – even in his sleep. He wondered if Russia felt the same.

"Sir?" Lithuania's attention was drawn back to the sergeant who was still on the other end of the phone.

"Oh- sorry," he quickly apologized, "I was just considering everything. Fine, fine, just don't push them too hard—money isn't a priority."

"Yes, sir." He hung up and Lithuania set the phone down, sighing in relief.

He was about to return to the peaceful duty of mulling over papers when someone knocked.

"Eh-?"

"_Lithuania! It's me, America! Can I come in?" _

Bemused, Lithuania resisted the urge to tell Alfred that the door was not in fact, soundproof, so he didn't need to yell. "Yes, go ahead, the door's unlocked."

The French doors practically burst opened and Lithuania found himself locked in a warm bear hug by the other nation.

"A-America!" He stammered.

Alfred let go, grinning. "Sorry for the short notice! The guys told me you were busy but I came anyways. The front door was unlocked so…" He scratched his head. "Shouldn't you have locked it though? Especially with guys like Gilbert lurking around."

This was all too sudden—Lithuania wasn't sure how to respond. "E-er… yeah…"

"Oh!" America held up a finger in thought. "Which reminds me, I totally support your actions right now. You see, Iggy was really worried about how you would handle things—I told him not to worry." His tone turned into something a little more serious as he eyed Lithuania. "I'm glad you chose to do something about all this, though. The big guys here in Europe were being really anal about everything—they thought you wouldn't be able to handle Russia anymore if you couldn't stand up against Prussia or East Germany- whatever."

Lithuania sighed. "Yeah, I heard something about that."

America nodded. "So anyways, I was wondering if you still need my help. The economy's good and running over in North America and you know we have no problem with sending support."

He smiled. "Thank you. You know I appreciate it, but…" He met his gaze, "I don't want this fight to spread, if you know what I mean. Prussia is fighting to invade and if too many countries get involved then he might be tempted to create _new _goals."

America thought about this. "I suppose you're right. I was just thinking the sooner we end this, the better."

"I suppose so. It's just… Feliks wants to fight with me and there's Estonia and Latvia and _Russia._" He tried not to bury his face in his hands.

America reached over to place a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you guys will figure something out."

Lithuania already knew what he was going to do, but it didn't help matters. He only nodded wordlessly, gazing downward.

America went on, "I don't mean to add on to the pressure or anything, but whatever you do, don't lose this war."

His fixed stare was so intense that Lithuania was forced to look back up. "I know, but why?"

There was urgency in his eyes, Toris saw. "They'll take _him_ away. The bastards don't view Ivan as his own independent nation anymore even though his _is. _Even I know that."

"…And what if that is against his will?" Lithuania asked, fighting to keep the rising anger in his voice down. He already had an idea about what the answer was.

"They're willing to do anything—it's like he's not even 'human' to them anymore. They'll use drugs, bondage, anything. Worst part is, _everyone_ supports this option except me and maybe England, but he's not being exactly clear about it. Suppose it does come down to this—what am I supposed to do? Beat all of them up and take over Russia? Then I'll be just as bad as them, won't I?

"It just _bothers _me. I know it's one whole plot to split Russia into many pieces for themselves. If you end up losing the war, then they'll just use that whole 'you're not strong enough' excuse for a cover up because they know you won't have the strength to fight back if they do decide to take over."

"America…"

"Look, you have enough on your own plate. But if your side starts to die out a little bit, they'll probably take action. They won't even wait for the war to actually end because they don't want Prussia marching in there claiming everything. If you need help, Christ, just call for me, okay?"

It was funny how the war hadn't even started and they were talking like it already –has-

But Lithuania couldn't fool himself—he knew the inevitable.

"I… I will." It was all he could manage. There were no words to describe the utter hurt and _betrayal_ he felt.

America looked satisfied if a bit stressed at the same time. "Meanwhile, I'll see if I can change their minds. Just hold on, all right?"

Lithuania only nodded, biting his tongue.

America let go of his shoulder and turned to leave. "Good luck, then." And he was gone.

-x-X-x-

Estonia figured something was wrong when he found Lithuania leaning against the front of his desk, facing him and Latvia.

He swallowed unnervingly. "Toris?"

His dull green eyes seemed to focus at the sound of his name. "Oh, you're here," he pointed out needlessly. "There's something I need to tell you…"

"Are you all right?"

Lithuania blinked, glazing over his eyes. "Of course I am. But that's not the point. As you know, I'm on the brink of war."

He nodded and Latvia remained silent, casting nervous looks between the two.

"I can't lose this battle. Prussia's going to make the first move against _me_, I know that for sure but no matter what, we have to protect our land—do you know where I'm going with this?"

Estonia nodded again, speaking out this time, "Yes, you want our help as well. It's three countries - or four if you count Russia – against one. We can beat him in no time-"

"Estonia…"

"-also we have plenty of surplus for you if you need it. Our navies and air force have you covered as well. Honestly, Lithuania—you know you don't need to ask us for help-"

"_Estonia."_

He stopped in mid sentence. "I- what?"

"You and Latvia are released from the union." That was it; blunt and brusque. There were no more words to soften what they heard.

"_Released!?"_ It was Latvia—much to their surprise— who protested angrily after a moment's silence, "What do you mean? We joined the union willingly!"

Estonia was just as shocked and appalled as his younger brother. "What… why?"

Lithuania's depression was evident as he answered, "It's for your own good. If you stay with me, he'll be obliged to drag you two in as well."

_Bullshit_, Estonia wanted to shout. "Thing's have been going perfectly fine for years! Now you want us to leave—you can't just kick us out!"

"Besides, even if we are in different places, Prussia can still attack us!" Latvia added on.

Lithuania's expression tightened as did his grip on the table. "You'll be safer away from here. As the creator of the union, I can break it apart. This is an order—I want both of you to leave the this place."

The two looked defeated.

"You can't do this," Estonia said quietly.

"I can," he replied, "This is my final decision. I want you gone by tomorrow." His voice was sharp and bitter—very much unlike Lithuania. Estonia thought he could still see the growing cracks behind the green irises. He didn't want this.

"You…"

Lithuania ignored him. "When you're back at your own place, fortify your borders anyways. It's only a suggestion since when you leave, I'll have no more authority over you."

"And what if we try to interfere under our own authority?"

"Then I'll set up a complete embargo."

He was going to leap forward to grab Lithuania by the collar but Latvia stopped him. He had to settle with shouting at him instead. _"What!? _If you do that, you're going to end up just like _him! _There's no chance! Alone! You- you…!" He couldn't go on. It wasn't very often he lost his temper like this but _Lithuania…_

Toris's expression revealed nothing. "You're dismissed."

Estonia felt rigid as he tried to calm himself. Disgusted, he left, slamming the door and taking Latvia with him.

-x-X-x-

The edge of the desk was digging into his spine as Lithuania struggled to take in enough air to calm his nerves. It took all his strength to deny his emotions and _force_ out the other two against their will.

It was useless—he let out a strangled scream as he slid down the wooden front of his desk. He pulled his knees to his chest as he wrapped his arms around himself.

His eyes and nose burned as he sobbed into starched cloth. Pent-up emotions forced themselves out in the form of several fat tears.

He tried so _fucking_ hard…

…yet in the end, it had to turn out like this.

Raw, wet emotion pushed through his heart and invaded his lungs, leaving him to gasp and hiccup for air.

He wasn't sure how long he was left to cry—he didn't even notice the doors had reopened until algid arms wrapped themselves around his shuddering figure.

Russia's arms and hands were cold, but his chest was warm and Lithuania was left with nothing to do but let himself be held by the other. Ivan stroked his hair tenderly while whispering words of comfort into his ear.

"Oh, Toris," he murmured, his voice mournful, "why did you do that?"

Lithuania tasted salt as he swallowed—he wanted to answer, but he couldn't find the right words. What should he say? That he wanted to protect them? That he didn't want them to get hurt? It was for the best, wasn't it…? So then why did it feel like his heart was going to collapse in on itself?

Maybe all this time he wanted everyone to stay together just like _back then_. But of course it wasn't going to work out—maybe he _wasn't_ strong enough.

Well at least now he can pay for his mistakes alone.

More hot tears poured out and Russia gently kissed them away—his cool lips like ice against his flushed skin.

"I-I'm so sel-selfish," his sentence ended in a sharp gasp as he tried to hold back his sobs.

Ivan only hushed him softly and tightened the embrace, closing the distance between them.

-x-X-x-

_**Three days later at Gdansk, Poland.**_

Feliks really didn't like spending his time on Coast Guard duty but Liet told him to watch out for weird things.

"Nine hours and all I got was a stranded fishing ship," he sighed, grabbing a stick of paluszki to chew on. "Liet, be totally glad I'm doing this for you."

Twice he dozed off and twice he woke up, only to find that nothing had shown up, still. He was just about ready to call in someone else to take his place when the radar started beeping. Nothing showed up on the grid.

"Eh, that's strange. Forty kilometers from Hel?" He pressed a few buttons for details but large green letters cascaded across the screen.

JAMMED

Poland smashed the keys in frustration. "Who jammed the radar!?" As he hollered, "NO INPUT" flashed in red across another screen.

"Our UAVs have been shot down, sir. We don't have any signal from Gdansk all the way to Kaliningrad," someone answered. "And we're getting interference from a third party."

Poland cursed. "You have _got_ to be kidding me. I want you to like, contact whoever's out there and send some ships out, whatever. Hurry up!" He snapped his fingers impatiently.

_I better tell Liet about this_.

He quickly adjusted the microphone before sending a signal to one of Lithuania's ships.

_Come on… come on, pick up…!_

He almost broke the device in half when no one answered. He tried again desperately.

Finally-

"_Hallo_, what's up?"

The German accent was unmistakable. His eyes widened. "You-! Like, what the hell do you think you're doing!?"

Prussia chuckled from the other end. "What? You're the one who called. I'm just answering."

"I-I called for one of Liet's ships. What did you do!?"

"Woah, calm down. I only shot down a few of your toys and picked up this neat little destroyer. Awesome, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well I'm totally telling Liet about this and he's going to stop you. You're not welcome here."

Prussia tsk'd. "I didn't think so… Hey, if your friend happens to find out about my plan, I'll just have to shoot the crew won't I?"

Poland's blood ran cold. "A-and what if I don't care? They're not my people."

"I thought about that actually. Well you see, as we're chatting, my guys are in the middle of capturing two Polish ships. That gives me plenty of leverage, don't you think?"

He gripped the microphone tightly. "You're totally bluffing."

"Hardly, if you let me pass to Konigsburg, I'll let one ship go. This is only between me and Lithuania after all, right?"

"Kaliningrad? You can't invade there. The place is already-"

"'Course I can. And I wouldn't be talking, who's the one with the jammed radar?"

"Don't tell me…"

"I can spare a few bombs for you if you don't cooperate, you know."

Poland kicked the side of the wall angrily. This guy wasn't giving him a choice.

_I'm sorry, Liet. I'll make it up to you later._

-x-X-x-

"Alfred."

America is sitting in one of the empty rooms of the American Embassy in England.

Arthur is standing not too far from him with a cup of cold tea, a look of utter desolation on his face.

There's a television that has been turned on. The two focus their attention on it for a moment.

"_East Germany has officially declared war on Lithuania and Russia. West Germany's sympathies remain unknown."_

"…He was mad to have let go of the Baltics like that."

"He didn't want anyone to get hurt from the start."

"So it's self-sacrifice then? Is that what it is? Why in God's name did you withdraw your support?"

"It can't be me who saves Ivan this time."

The two of them are quiet again and England sips his tea.

"… Give me some of your Cognac from the cabinet, will you?" It wasn't exactly a question.

"Like hell I'm wasting good brandy on you."

"It's _French_."

England waves his hand. "Get it yourself then, lazy git."

America shrugs and does just that. He doesn't bother with taking out a glass as he takes a swig straight from the bottle.

England gives him a disapproving look but doesn't say anything.

Alfred sits back down in his seat, taking the bottle with him. He sets it down on the hardwood table with a sharp _clunk_.

"He forfeited over half of his potential army," Arthur says.

"Less people to kill. He thinks about others before he thinks about himself—that's why he's in this whole mess to begin with."

"I still don't think you should've withdrawn."

He takes another gulp from the brandy. "Fuck me then."

**-x-X-x-**

Tell me why it had to end there e-e'

About the confusing chapter last time, Russia was hallucinating. That's why Liet couldn't free him ;C Cause he wasn't real.

Has anyone watched the whole Eurovision thing? I have the guy from Norway's song stuck in my head oTL… (I wish FFnet had some type of journal feature so I wouldn't have to cram all my thoughts in the authors note).

I thought my writer's block was getting better. Now I feel like I'm in the deepest part of it. It's funny how I get awesome ideas for the endings of stories but never for the things in the middle oTL.  
Speaking of endings, this story is almost finished. Two or three more chapters are left and it's making me sad when I think about the end. I'm pretty eager to write the "finale" but I mustn't rush x-x'''

That being said, don't you guys think Kaliningrad would make an awesome RusLiet lovechild? xD (It's a piece of Russian land wedged between Poland and Lithuania)

There's more I want to say but I don't want to spam up the word count.


	8. Chapter VII

**Chapter VII**

"Open the borderline, we need to let as many people through."

Lithuania remained calm (on the outside at least) despite his racing mind and heart. Blood pounded in his ears along with the sharp crackle of distant gunfire and exploding shells.

He tried not to bite his lip too hard as he looked down upon the crowds of people gushing through the gates—they were mostly Russians but a fair amount of them were his people too.

Lithuania knew there were way more people than this, but the rest of them had fled towards Poland since he was the closest—he didn't approve at first, but he kept silent. He didn't want Feliks involved any more than he already was but he couldn't deny Russia's people of a sanctuary either. _It's only for the best_, he told himself over and over again.

_They were waiting for him. He turned to leave but the sound of his name stopped him in his tracks._

_Russia was standing not too far away from him, clutching a bloody arm where the first area of skin had been broken. "Lithuania," he whispered again with wide, yet hollow eyes._

_Lithuania himself couldn't feel the first shell explode, but he was sure Russia could when he fell on all fours, trembling. "Lithuania!" he almost screamed._

_He abandoned his gun at the doorway and rushed to Ivan's side. "D-Don't move any more, your body can't take it."_

"_It's fine!" He said even when the bloody patch on his sleeve grew. "Lithuania…" He violently grabbed the cloth of his pants as he buried his face into his knees. "Let me fight. I'll fight for you."_

_Toris felt his heart crack. "No. You'll die." He made a move to get up but Ivan pulled him down again._

"_No!" he shouted and Lithuania realized he was begging. "Don't leave me here. Please don't leave me here in this place, alone. I can't take it!" His fingers dug into his skin but he couldn't pull away. "A-after so long, Toris found me. He saved me, but now… now he's leaving again."_

_The crack deepened and Russia gazed up at him with bloodshot eyes—the hollow depths filled with pain and hurt and—_

"_Loneliness. To be alone… Toris, I don't want to be alone anymore."_

_He wanted to tell him that he won't be alone, that he would be back and everything would be all right again—but no words could leave his mouth. The only thing he could do was press his lips against Russia's. He tasted salt and misery._

_It felt like the cruelest and hardest thing he could ever do, but Lithuania pulled himself away from Russia's grip and walked out the door- gun in hand- without even looking back. He tried to force the image of Ivan's hurt-filled eyes from his head. He was only partially successful._

Lithuania ordered a counter attack, hoping the noise would drown out everything else. He hoisted his own rifle as he ran into the fire, searching for the wounded and fallen.

More bullets pelted the ground and more bombs exploded. Toris turned his face towards the graying sky.

_So selfish_.

-x-X-x-

"Konigsberg is as good as ours," Prussia said, twirling an instructor's baton between his fingers. "It's a good thing too—three days into this war and the first key is already in my hands."

"It is good," someone agreed, "What will you do with Poland?"

"I'll take care of him soon enough. The idiot thinks he can get away with just supplying Lithuania and taking in refugees. Do you think his face will be just like back then in '39? "

"It doesn't matter. You'll have to focus on Lithuania and Russia for now. Don't go picking fights like it won't cost you."

Prussia sighed. His boss always seemed to be the all-work-no-play type. "Fine, fine. It'll be no time until then either way. Everyone thinks this will end soon, for Lithuania anyways-" He scoffed.

"-Yeah right. The damn Russian can't even fight for himself apparently. Aside from the Russian soldiers that were already stationed at their 'Kaliningrad', there was nothing but the useless Lithuanian soldiers. I bet they don't even stand a chance. Too bad I can't hear them screaming—I swear I could hear _his_ voice in every one of their's." It seemed he was rambling to himself.

"It's music, you see," he added, grinning.

"Don't get overconfident. You don't want to mess this up now."

"I _won't_ mess this up. You're just like Ludwig. And that reminds me, I haven't heard from him in a while…"

"Which brings me to my next point."

Prussia eyed him with newly found interest. "Oh?"

-x-X-x-

"_Toris, Toris~? Wake up, Toris!"_

_Lithuania grudgingly opened his eyes to a shining sun. That was odd— he vaguely remembered a stormy sky with raindrops pelting his shoulders as he trudged through bloody mud and-_

_Grass? He was laying in golden grass, alone, in a field, save for what seemed to be a little boy no older than five._

_He sat up and grimaced as another dull pain throbbed in his spine and shoulder. "Who are you?" His voice seemed strangely light and dreamy._

_The boy looked just like him—he had the same brown hair and green eyes, except his irises seemed much clearer and brighter; brighter than his. He was dressed in dark trousers and a white tunic with cuffed sleeves. A dark brown ribbon was tied around his collar._

"_My name is Toris!" He said happily in perfect Lithuanian._

_Lithuania frowned. "No, I'm Toris. Who are you?"_

"_I'm Toris." The boy gave him an amused look. Along with wondering if he was mocking him or not, Lithuania couldn't help but think back four hundred years ago when he gave Poland the same expression every time he tripped over the same rock that stayed in the same place and-_

_his jaw dropped._

_The unmistakable slab of gray that jutted out of the ground obnoxiously was only a few feet away from him—Innocent and still._

_The little boy looked confused now as he bent over to stare at Lithuania in the face. "What? It's a rock, so what? You've never seen one before?"_

"_Wh-who are…?"_

_He pouted. "I'm Toris. I'm you! Am I going to be this dumb when I grow up?"_

_Lithuania blinked. This wasn't right—this place wasn't even supposed to exist anymore. The rye had been ripped out of the soil since the third Partition, then later on, the bare land was replaced with buildings, so why was it possible that he was lying in the same place since back then?_

"_Don't ignore me!" The little boy called Toris stomped indignantly. _

_Despite his confusion, it was Lithuania's turn to look amused. "I don't remember being this loud when I was your age. Besides, how can you grow up if you're me? I'm already grown up."_

_The younger one blew a couple bangs from his face, looking fairly angry. "Yeah, well maybe, maybe not. If I do grow up, I bet I'm gonna be way better than you!"_

_He ruffled his hair and to his surprise, the littler Toris didn't pull back. "I'm sure you'd make a brilliant country."_

"_Lithuania, right?"_

"_Lithuania." He confirmed, nodding. He tried not to think about his darkest years, or of chains and whips, or of the burning of crosses and the frostbite that spread from his fingers like a black disease. He half expected to hear women sobbing as their children were ripped from their embraces and sent to the endless pits and the rushing waters and the burning stakes and the waiting nooses and-_

"_H-hey, are you crying?"_

_Surprised, Lithuania lifted a hand to his eyes to find hot tears pouring out. He hastily wiped them away. "It's easy to cry here," he tried to explain._

"_But you're not supposed to cry!" He protested, grabbing both of Lithuania's hands with his small fingers. The older Toris couldn't help but notice how worn and dirty his own hands were compared to the chaste skin of the other. "You're the grown-up!"_

"_Sorry… I was just remembering some things. Grown-ups cry too, sometimes."_

_He seemed to have calmed down a bit. "Okay—but don't do it again! I hate it when people cry, especially you. It rains when you do."_

_Lithuania felt the same—he hated tears even (or maybe especially?) when they were his own. He remained silent for a moment, then he looked to the distance, wondering. "So what about now?"_

"_What about now?"_

"_I want to go back to wherever I was before. There are people who need me." _

_He shrugged. "I was gonna let you go anyways. You were just knocked out and I didn't want you to have any more nightmares so I took you here instead."_

"_Here?"_

"_Here." The boy spread his tiny limbs as if trying to emphasize the vastness of the fields. "Don't you remember this place? It's where you've always gone when things went wrong. Nothing can hurt you here."_

"_I'm having trouble recalling this place during recent times…" Lithuania plucked a stalk of grass seed from the ground and twirled it absentmindedly between his fingers. "But then, I guess it's easy to forget dreams too."_

_The boy didn't say anything to that, and for a moment, all that could be heard was the dry rustling of grass._

_Lithuania spoke again. "Who- no- _what_ are you_?"

"_I told you, I'm_ you._" He walked over to poke Lithuania in the chest. "Don't think too hard about it though. Don't you have other things to worry about?"_

_Lithuania still didn't quite get what he meant but he didn't ask any more questions. "I should be leaving then."_

_Toris nodded. "We'll see each other again soon?"_

_Lithuania smiled sadly. "Maybe."_

_The child returned the gesture. Lithuania thought there was too much pain and sadness contained in that single smile for someone so young. "I hope not."_

And all was white.

-x-X-x-

"Ah, you came just in time. He's beginning to wake up, I'll leave you two alone."

"Thank you."

Lithuania tried to blink the sleep away from his eyes and see through the dim light. The world seemed so dark compared to the bright sun from his dream—it gave him an odd sensation. He wasn't sure who the first voice was but the second was definitely Russia; it sounded strange for him to be talking to someone else besides him.

"The doctor told me you were knocked out while carrying the wounded. The area from your right shoulder to hip was burned."

Sure enough, Toris found sickly bandages wrapped around his naked torso as he shifted his sheets away. "H-how many…?" He croaked. His mouth still tasted of dirt and smoke.

"Two hundred out of the thousand you sent. It would've been much higher if it weren't for you."

Lithuania nodded. Guilt gnawed at his center—he wasn't sure if it was because he lost a handful of his people, or if it was because Russia was still by his side even when he…

His back screamed in pain as he suddenly sat up but he paid no attention to it. "Kaliningrad! I… I lost it…"

Russia took his face in his hands and stroked the bandage that had been placed there. "But Lithuania is still here, da?"

Toris realized Ivan was free of his coat and that his forearm was heavily bandaged—a few drops of blood had managed to leak through the many layers. He wanted to reach out and touch the wound but his burns wouldn't permit it. "I'm so sorry. I-I…"

Russia placed a single finger over his lips, silencing him. "Shh… Lithuania is tired, yes?" He smiled and tears pricked the corners of Lithuania's eyes. How could he still be smiling when a vital part of him had been taken away…?

"_I hate it when people cry, especially you. It rains when you do." _The child's words echoed in his mind. He swallowed thickly and held back the burning sensation in his eyes and nose.

"T-they're only flesh wounds… they'll heal soon. But for you…" His eyes lingered back to Russia's bandages and he grimaced. "I-It'll scar…'

"It'll be alright." He smiled again. "I'm just happy that Toris is still alive." Then he gently placed a kiss on his lips and Toris found himself relaxing into his touch. Russia raised both hands to stroke the sides of his neck, careful not to touch the burns.

He then lifted a cool finger to brush a lock of hair away from his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Something wasn't right.

"WhO wOuLd _you_ LiK_e_ mE to _kill?" _He whispered.

Lithuania tensed up—his first thought was to pull from his grasp but the way Russia was holding him made it difficult. "I-Ivan…?"

"ToRis is hurt… YeS? He's hUrT because of _me…"_

Lithuania bit back an instinctive whimper. As if trained to do so, his body began to tremble and he could do little to stop it—this voice was terrifying enough to make his blood run cold and send _images _through his mind. Horrible images. Images that were meant to be long forgotten but could not be.

_C-calm down, he's only upset about…_

He opened his mouth to say something but his words were interrupted with a weak cry as Russia pulled him closer by the neck. His fingers were gentle but the way Toris's neck was bent back made it all the more painful.

"Are you shaking, tOrIs? _Please _don't be _scared_ of mE." It was a terrifying sort of plea but the cold hand running lengths down his bare spine only made matters worse.

Lithuania bit back a gasp as Russia's finger caught on a loose bandage near his shoulder. He wiggled in protest as his mutilated skin was exposed to the cool air, making the wounds sting. Russia finally let go, allowing his neck to bend back in place, relieving him of one discomfort.

Toris, shaken, looked back up at him. There was blood on his fingers and he licked it away, still smiling.

_Ivan…?_

Why was he acting like this? Trying his best to ignore the fear brooding in his core, Toris looked into his eyes, searching for an explanation. His heart jolted painfully as the agony in his violet depths became evident to him.

…_I'm so sorry…_

"Ivan… I'm okay, I'm safe—you don't need to hurt anyone… Not anymore..." He was still gazing into his eyes intently (even though it hurt for him to continually do so), silently pleading.

Ivan's hands dropped down to clench the sheets. "…Toris…" his name ended in a dry sob. With his grin fading as quickly as it appeared, Russia fell to his knees, clutching the sheets to his forehead. "Don't hate me, _please_ _don't hate me."_

_I don't hate you_.

Lithuania edged to the side of his bed and with his good arm, gently pressed Russia's face to his middle in comfort. He stroked his hair tenderly, a desolate expression on his face. "I don't hate you," he said, this time aloud. _I never could._

Russia stiffened, surprised, but he eventually responded with a gentle nuzzle. "Your skin… your skin's so soft, Toris, just like back then," he murmured.

Lithuania tucked away silver strands but he didn't say anything.

"…_don't cry… it rains when you do…"_

_I won't cry._

Lithuania wished for the war to end already. He wished for the scars on Ivan's fragile mind to fade away. He wished for him to heal—to recover, to be whole once again.

And that is why Toris will shield him no matter what—he'll see it to the end, that Russia will not fall under the wills of madmen and suffer dearly like the many other times in the past… He will never allow it to happen again. And if Ivan will shatter like glass, Toris will pick up all the pieces and put them back together again, even if it makes him bleed.

_It'll be all right, if I'm the only one who's hurt._ He decided as he ran his fingers through platinum hair. _It'll be for the best when this is all over._

-x-X-x-

There were no words to describe Prussia's rage. The splintered remains of his baton lied scattered over the table as the nation continued to shout, clearly expressing no effort in suppressing his anger. "_Fuck you! _Like hell I'm dragging Germany into this because you're too much of a fucking coward to own up for yourself!" He upset a chair as if trying to emphasize his point.

His boss only stared on placidly, his face half-hidden in darkness. "There will be less casualties for us and in the end, we'll get what we want. Isn't that what you were hoping for when you first attacked Lithuania?"

Gilbert was seething. The short amount of time it took for Gilbert to hate his own leader's coarse and emotionless voice almost amazed him—but it didn't. "Not like this, you disgusting moron. I can't believe I've been taking orders from someone like _you._"

"Really now? It doesn't matter, are you planning to defy me?"

Prussia regretted taking out his anger on the wooden baton. He could've used it to stab the source of his frustration through the eye and have it done with. But despite the bitter atmosphere, Prussia still found the corner of his mouth twitching.

"The people will follow me, not you. You don't own me and I am myself."

"Oh? But I only want what's best for my country." The sprinkled-on innocence was obviously faked and half-heartedly applied.

"Like hell you do," Prussia hissed. "I don't _care_ about what you have to say, I'm going to win the war my way, not yours."

"Even if your way will endanger more people?"

Gilbert wanted to laugh and violently strangle the other at the same time, but he couldn't. "Endanger _more? _God, I hope you're not comparing my plans to yours. I'm sorry pal, but in reality, dropping fucking warheads on cities unawares raises a death toll measured in thousands, not dozens. Even if I _did_ agree with you, the UN wouldn't have it and everyone else would get on my case about it."

"And that's where Germany comes in."

"_Germany_ has nothing to with this."

"But he's the only way."

"_And that's why I'm not going your way!" _Prussia almost screamed. Why didn't this goddamned son-of-a-bitch get it? He already made himself _perfectly _clear that he didn't want to leave Ludwig with the bloody knife, noteless, but this person seemed to have a problem comprehending his fucking logic. "Don't you get it? Unlike _you_, I have my pride and honor. I don't need to drag down other people to get what I want." He spat on the table, his eyes glinting angrily.

"Fine, I won't involve Germany then."

Prussia glared at him suspiciously but didn't say anything. This was all some part of his plan to change his mind with reverse-fucking-psychology.

"It'll all be up to you, but trust me, you'll regret this. You'll regret not listening to me from the beginning when this god-forsaken war drags on."

He gritted his teeth. "Somehow, I strongly doubt that."

-x-X-x-

"Gawd, Liet, I'm so sorry…" Poland reached out to touch Lithuania's fresh bandages but thought better of it. "It's all my fault, I-I…"

Lithuania smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about it. You didn't have much of a choice and he was bound to attack sooner or later."

Feliks didn't argue but guilt still lingered in his eyes. "So… is he like, okay after the whole Kaliningrad thing?" He nodded towards Russia who was sleeping peacefully, his head resting between his arms on Lithuania's bed. "The city was like, supposed to be one of his most heavily-fortified ones and it totally got smashed up in like what? Three days?"

Toris sighed. "Yeah, I'm worried about him too. He's so… fragile—both physically _and _mentally." He shivered as he remembered the horrible feeling of Ivan's ribs beneath his fingers. "No-no one else saw him the day I first found him—everything about him was broken and trampled. God, Poland, what did _they do to him?"_

He seemed to be at a loss on what to say. "They?" It was all he could get out.

Lithuania nodded again, his eyes seemingly haunted. "His own government put him through a second hell, and _no one _did anything to stop them. I-I know what you're thinking, Feliks, but he could've died alone… and no one would've known about it until later." He buried his face into his hands and took a deep breath.

Poland didn't like how he was learning about Liet's inner turmoil _now_. It made him feel blind and neglectful. "No one wants to die alone," he said softly, laying a hand on Lithuania's good shoulder. His skin was warm and damp.

Lithuania shuddered in response but didn't flinch back or worse, throw him off. He seemed to have accepted the physical contact. "Even after all that he's done to me- to everyone else- I still feel like I have to help him. I can't lose. He's been through… so… so much… If I let Prussia get to him, his suffering won't mean anything anymore." He swallowed and looked up at him with wide eyes. "It'll all go to waste. Everything."

"Liet…" He bent down to give him a quick but tight hug. "You know there are people who are here for you. Whatever you do, just promise me one thing, kay?" He pressingly stared into his eyes and they locked gazes.

"What is it, Feliks?"

"Promise me you won't leave us behind. Promise that everyone will be here, so we can enjoy the end, together."

His eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment before he said, "I promise."

Poland smiled wearily. He knew they were just words, but they were Liet's words, and Liet's words meant everything.

That was how things have always been.

**-x-X-x-**

_(Prepare for long AN)_

Everyone has an inner child, Toris, yes, even you ;U

_Note to self_: Next time you start a project like this, get a freaking beta.

Yeah, some of you can probably tell, but everything in this fic is unbeta'd orz That's why I take so long, I spend a whole day on proofreading and revising (and yet I still end up with a lot of mistakes ;x; ) Which reminds me of something else, progress for both the plot and updates may be a little slower because I still need time to think over the ending. I really love this fic and you guys, so I don't want to kill the end and ruin the whole story orz.

Block is getting better again but I probably just jinxed myself… again.

_**Some Notes:  
**_-"'39" refers to 1939 when Poland was invaded by Germany and Russia (Russia you meanie)  
-Kaliningrad belongs to Russia in present day time, but it used to be a Prussian/German town called Konigsberg prior to WWII.  
-The "Partition" refers to the Third Partition of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth where Feliks and Liet got split up (Russia you meanie again, you too Austria.)

And thank you again for the support x3 Especially the reviews, you guys have no idea how much reviews make me happy ;; Well if you're a writer, then you probably –do- have an idea.

(and before I forget, thanks so much you two ;-; For the art/doujin, everything. You guys know who you are. Would you like me to link back to you on my profile for all to see 8D ? )


	9. Chapter VIII

**Chapter VIII**

Lithuania stared at himself in the mirror. The burns that littered his side like angry red clouds toned down a bit and the blotchy scabs were beginning to peel away. He was getting better, yes, but his skin was still sensitive to the touch. Though, he couldn't complain about that—he was healing much faster than he had first expected.

He wished he could say the same for his people, however. They were growing restless with every passing day—they were angry with the invading army and anxious to have this over with before the year ends. Winter was approaching fast, and Toris knew things would only go downhill from there. But he still had faith in his people and he would see to it that everything would be over _soon_.

He wondered about what to do next—he managed to contain Prussia's invasion of Kaliningrad within the city area. The rest of the oblast was safe, for now. _Now_ he was trying to bring him down in the polluted Baltic Sea. Toris closed his eyes and pictured the rows or artillery firing, sending smoke into the salt-scented air. He pictured ships, people, sinking into the tainted water.

Lithuania tasted something bitter on his tongue. He focused his attention back to his own body. Scores of his men were dying in the fields and the only thing to mark their passing were the dark splotches on Toris's skin, subtle wounds illuminated by the pale moonlight filtering through his bedroom window. They were only bruises but they were what concerned him the most.

The injuries were unpredictable. Every morning, Toris would find more and more of these bruises forming on his skin. They went away fast, faster than any burn or scab, but they would always return and as the war dragged on, they would take much longer to heal—he knew from pure, raw experience.

There was a gentle shuffle of sheets and then heavy but careful footsteps behind him. Cool arms wrapped around his middle from behind and someone's head rested against the crook of his neck. Lithuania closed his eyes again, his body unmoving. Russia's touch was soothing to his healing burns and bruises and he welcomed the embrace, moving only to lay his hands on the arms that still circled his torso.

Russia lifted his eyes to meet Lithuania's gaze in the mirror. His mauve irises caught the light like glass orbs. Lithuania still remembered the days when he feared the subtle glow they gave off.

But Russia's gaze was only questioning and laced with genuine concern this time.

Toris didn't need to say anything to hom—his eyes told Ivan what he wanted to know.

Ivan took one of his hands and led him back to the bed with slow movements. Lithuania let himself fall back, his face stoic and heart throbbing painfully.

Russia kissed the bruises tenderly; his gestures and actions were gentle, as if he were still afraid of breaking Lithuania with his hands. He treated the other like something fragile—a porcelain doll perhaps- even though Toris had proven himself to be something otherwise.

Though… It wasn't like he minded. Lithuania already had his fair share of rough-handedness for the day. The way Russia was holding him, and the way he was holding Russia somehow made everything feel better. It was pleasant (_in its own twisted way_, Lithuania mused).

It honestly felt like a dream.

-x-X-x-

-x-X-x-

Lithuania thought the moonlight illuminated Russia's hair beautifully as the other nipped at his skin almost playfully. He ran his fingers through gossamer strands, admiring the bright sheen. He buried his nose into the hair when Ivan set to kissing the nape of his neck.

-x-X-x-

-x-X-x-

Lithuania was on his front now, his head resting between his arms as he let Russia explore his back. At first, his movements were faltering and riddled with guilt but it wasn't long before his kisses were quick, distinct, and without hesitation. His lips traveled along the glossy red and white lines of his century-old lacework.

Lithuania shivered, though not from terror.

-x-X-x-

-x-X-x-

The black heels of his boots clicked loudly against the polished floor as Lithuania left the conference room that still contained over half his bickering generals.

Toris never really liked this particular uniform—few occasions called for such attire and as hardworking as he was, he did his best to avoid those _few occasions_. The uniform was a dark blue-gray in color, very much unlike his usual green. The whole thing made him feel so cold and foreboding—the military cap that was shadowing his eyes didn't help matters, but it wasn't like he was trying to prove how warm and friendly he was either. He still longed to roll his arms back to loosen his muscles but the shoulder boards felt too restricting, he needed to change soon or—

"Ivan?"

Russia was waiting on one of the hallway benches, dressed in his own olive colored attire; his pale scarf was still wrapped around his neck like always. Lithuania couldn't help but notice how the uniform hung off of his figure a little—but just a little.

At the sound of his name, Russia looked up. "You are done already?"

Toris nodded stiffly. "We all had similar ideas… I can tell you later, if you'd like. How are things on your side?"

Russia smiled cautiously. "They are stubborn, but we have things under control."

His constant nodding felt redundant, but it felt like the easiest thing Lithuania could do in response. "We should have our leaders discuss… things later."

Russia's eyes unfocused momentarily but he agreed, standing up and offering Lithuania a hand. It puzzled him, but he accepted anyways.

-x-X-x-

Lithuania poked at a campfire sluggishly. It was only late evening and he was already exhausted.

A young Russian soldier was sitting besides him, his eyes following the movements of his makeshift poker.

He needed to fill the silence. "Is there something bothering you?" His Russian must've been heavily accented from lack of use but Toris guessed it didn't matter when the other seemed to have understood him.

"I just have the feeling the other guys don't like us very much." His eyes didn't leave the fire. "Sir," he hastily added.

Lithuania disregarded the minor blunder "Us?"

"The ones who aren't from Lithuania."

"…Oh. I see. Don't be worried about that, I'm sure everyone will be used to each other soon."

He nodded absentmindedly.

"But meanwhile, try not to stare into the fire too long, I don't want you to hurt your eyes in a place like—" he was interrupted by a loud growl. There was a moment of awkward silence. Only the crackling of the fire could be heard. Toris eyed the soldier, mildly amused.

"Did you eat today?"

"N-not really, sir."

"Why is that?"

"I gave my last ration to Mikhail. He's younger than me, smaller too."

Lithuania fished for something in one of his pockets. He took out a round, flat can and tossed it to the soldier.

He muttered a thanks but stopped halfway in opening the ration. "But sir, what about you?"

Toris gave a slight smile. "I'm used to stretching the time between my meals. Take it."

"From other field missions?"

"I guess."

"Excuse me sir, but you look like my age and I had just left school…"

Toris shrugged. "Maybe I'm a little older than I look. I _am_ your commander, aren't I?" He was glad when the youth decided not to question him any further. "…Oh, I forgot. What's your name?"

"Ivan," he replied, "Ivan Gurlukovich at your service, sir."

Ignoring his own advice, Lithuania stared deep into the flickering embers. "You… you have a nice name."

-x-X-x-

He took slow steps in pacing the lonely asphalt. Russia hoisted the AK-47 for the countless time that day. The metal of the gun was digging into his shoulder, causing it to ache.

The town he was staying at suffered a single day of gunfire but nothing more. He had been put on patrol for the whole day, as if satellites and radars weren't enough. His feet ached and he was bored out of his mind—he hadn't seen or even talked with Toris for days now.

Ivan wondered when their next chance to stop by home, no, _Lithuania's_ home would be. To his dismay, this place felt so… distant to him. He felt so detached from his own homeland after returning to it for the first time in several months. Perhaps he had gotten so used to Lithuania that he forgot about the land, about himself.

A light shuffle of footsteps interrupted his deep contemplation. Russia whirled around, the assault rifle in both of his hands now. There was a cry of fear and Ivan struggled to make out the figure in the darkness. "Who's there?"

"P-Please don't shoot, mister. I-I di-didn't mean to sneak u-up on you…"

Russia lowered the gun but only slightly. The unknown person stepped into the gate's light. He was mildly shocked to see that it was only a little girl—if he had to guess, she must've been somewhere around eight, nine at the most.

Ivan spared a second to look over his shoulder, making sure no one was sneaking up on him from behind. When he saw that no one else was there, he looked back to find the young girl staring up at him with wide, brown eyes—they were filled with a mix of fear and fascination.

He lowered the gun altogether and the girl seemed to have relaxed a bit.

"What are you doing here? Do your parents know you are out this late?"

She shook her head. "Nn-no… I-I just…"

Russia blinked slowly. This one girl reminded him of Raivis. "Calm down, child, we're not here to hurt you."

"I-I…" She looked disconcerted for a moment, her fragile-looking lips pulled into a frown. Her eyes were darting from side to side as if she was wondering whether to say something or not, then she gulped, as if it were something to show that she had made up her mind.

Very slowly, she lifted a hand to her hairline and pushed back her auburn bangs, revealing a white scar the size and shape of a mangled flower.

"I-I'm sorry, mister… I ca-can't help it. I ha-hate it too… after th-the acci-cident…"

Ivan tilted his head curiously. He had seen and experienced more _grisly_ injuries, but he still felt a pang of sympathy for the small child. For someone so young to be maimed like this, it was fairly sad. "I see, we won't talk about it then. What is your name?"

"M-Mischa…"

He knelt down so that he could look at her properly. "A fitting name for you, Mischa, I am Ivan. Do you need something from me?"

The girl named Mischa seemed distracted by his oddly colored eyes but eventually shook her head in response. "No, m-mister… I-I just brought… brought something from ho-home…" In her other hand was a bundle wrapped in an old-fashioned handkerchief. She tentatively offered it to him.

"I-I saw you ear-earlier today when y-you marched in… E-everyone else looked-looked so b-big and s-scary… You w-were ta-taller, but I-I thought you looked hun-hungry too. Papa t-told me no-not to talk to the ss-soldiers but…" Her sentence trailed off. She shuffled her feet nervously.

Russia smiled and hoped he had put enough warmth into it. "This is very thoughtful of you, Mischa," he said as he accepted the gift. He weighed the object in his arms and figured it must've been filled with baked goods.

The girls seemed happy to see that he had accepted the offering. "Ca-can I ask you s-something, mister?"

"Of course."

She pointed at the flowing scarf around his neck. "Why d-do you wear… wear that? Nn-no one e-else has a-a scarf like th-that."

His fingers automatically reached up to gently brush the cream scarf. "A gift from my sister, something to remember her by."

"D-do you miss her?"

"Very much."

"Did… did sh-she die?" The girl seemed horrified at the prospect. Ivan patted her head reassuringly.

"No, she's alive, but very far away. Go home now, Mischa, it's very late and your mother and father might notice you're gone."

She nodded hurriedly. "O-okay… T-thanks for talking t-to me, m-mister…"

"Ah, it's my pleasure. Thank you for the food."

The girl flashed a fleeting smile before turning around and scurrying off, fading quickly from Russia's vision.

Ivan left the town the next day, hoping a little that that single day of battle would be the last, for this small place at least.

-x-X-x-

Feliks hated this.

Like, _really_ hated this.

The Prussian uniform felt terrible on his skin. He made a mental note to himself to take a shower immediately when he got home. That was definitely a priority.

But an even more important priority was making everything actually worth it. He reminded himself that he was _not _in Poland and that if he was going to get caught in a place like this, he was going to die—probably in a very humiliating way.

But he was not going to get caught. He made it this far for Liet, hasn't he?

"You there!"

Poland turned around and saluted, eye twitching. "Sir!" He answered in German.

"You are our transcriber, yes?"

"Yes, sir!" He resisted the urge to violently rub his eye.

"Then what are you waiting for? You are late!" He threw his whole arm in a gesture to follow him.

"Sorry, sir! I got lost, sir!" He wanted to stick a Polish word in there somewhere but he knew he couldn't. He should've thought twice about the doing this, but then again, he was willing to do anything to put an end to the fighting.

-x-X-x-

More than once, Prussia passed Germany when he was on his way to a meeting.

This time, Gilbert decided he would not be satisfied with just bumping shoulders. He carefully timed himself as he approached Ludwig and Ludwig approached him.

When he was just in arm's reach, Prussia clasped a black-gloved hand to his shoulder, effectively stopping him and demanding his attention.

"Germany… You haven't talked to me in a while. What's wrong?"

Ludwig blinked, looking bemused. "Nothing's wrong. There hasn't been much to talk about, that's it."

Gilbert took a minute to study him. His slicked back hair was still the same, his uniform and Iron Cross was still the same. And as far as he could tell, nothing had changed about him—on the outside at least.

"Gilbert…?"

"Sorry West, I just needed… to ask you something."

He looked at him expectantly and he continued. "Did- uh, my _boss_ talk to you about anything?"

Germany frowned. "No."

He almost sighed in relief. "Good, I mean, great. Ah- I'm just glad you're not into this whole mess and all and _yeah_…"

Germany's frown deepened. "What happened between you and your boss?"

_Shit, I can't even lie to him. What the hell, Gilbert._

"He's playing dictator. Not literally though—I've just had some disagreements with him, okay?" _Well at least I'm not lying_. _Not really_.

It was his turn to eye him strangely. "So things are going perfectly smooth for you?"

He tried to keep his tone level and casual. "You can say that." He tried not to falter under Germany's scrutinizing gaze. "So Konigsberg…"

"Konigsberg." It came out quite curt.

Prussia felt his words jumble together before they even left his mouth. "I'm building—I mean, I'm _rebuilding_ the city."

"Good for you. Excuse me now, I have be out of here in five'." Germany brushed passed him—it wasn't unfriendly, but it wasn't exactly friendly either. Prussia turned to look after him, a dejected expression on his face.

_Damn it, Ludwig. What did I do?_

-x-X-x-

Poland could tell the whole thing was going to be extremely dull when he first stepped in. The scent of liquor and starched fabric made his head spin but he forced himself to record the every line the _enemy_ officials said. At least the writing will be useful to him later, but it wasn't like they were saying anything he wasn't aware of already. It was all _"defeat Lithuania" this, "defeat Russia" that, "Hey everyone, wouldn't it be totally awesome to clear a path between Kaunas and Vilnius?"_

He was just about to unwillingly nod off until something completely and utterly unexpected caught his attention.

"-set off the explosives in each of the cities, that will distract Weillschmidt long enough to launch-"

"-Wait a minute," Poland blurted out, "you're going to like, _blow up_ your own cities?"

Everyone was staring at him and Feliks realized he was only the transcriber and therefore had no say in what was going on. If he wanted to dig his own grave even further, he could've shouted out everything in anything but German.

"Private, restrain yourself! First you are late and now you are interrupting, do you need to be replaced?"

"No, sir! I apologize, sir!"

"Good, now as I was saying…"

Poland almost dropped his pen in horror when they went on. _They're all crazy._

He swallowed nervously and continued to write down every word said, but the written words were meaningless to him now. He needed to get out of here soon as possible so could he warn everyone—he didn't even think these people were going to _consider_ such an idea. How far were they willing going to go just to get what they want?

The talks went on for another hour before finally ending. By the time they were done, however, Feliks was already sweating in his uniform as his hands fidgeted nervously. He was dismissed and he eagerly left the meeting room, leaving the thin stack of papers where he left them—he didn't need them anymore, every word had been clearly etched into his mind.

-x-X-x-

They were home again. The sky outside was gray and damp, matching the atmosphere perfectly.

Lithuania was sitting in bed with a bowl of hot water, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and an assortment of gauze scattered around him as he treated one of Russia's day-old bullet wounds.

Toris was glad that it was nothing more than a stray bullet rather than one from a sniper—something like that would've blasted away more than just a mere chunk of flesh. Mortality wasn't something Lithuania was worried about at the moment, just the difficulty of dealing with such an injury.

"Relax your shoulders, alright?"

Russia obeyed and Lithuania set to dabbing it with alcohol. He tossed the soiled gauze aside, and with deliberate motions, undid Russia's scarf from his neck. The other tensed up.

Toris frowned, worried. "You don't want me to? I need to get it out of the way…"

"I-It's fine…"

He shrugged, and finished with removing the scarf.

He already knew they had been there for a long time, but Toris couldn't help but stare at the white lines and blotches circling Russia's neck like a collar. Perhaps in one point of time in the past, Ivan _did_ wear a collar. Perhaps it was heavy and made of iron too, but Lithuania was only guessing.

"Toris, is there something wrong?"

With a jolt, he realized his hands had stopped with the cleaning while his eyes were still fixed on the scars.

"Ah, no—! I was just wondering if the wound was going to get infected." It was a lie and Lithuania hoped Russia didn't catch on.

"I see… Will it?"

"No, it'll be fine."

He stared holes into the cauterized flesh and focused on wiping away the traces of blood before taping fresh gauze and bandaging it.

"There. Is it too tight?"

"No, thank you." Russia turned around and his eyes trailed back down to his neck.

"Russia…?"

"Hm?" He tilted his head only slightly but it was enough to expose his neck to the cold light, accentuating the pearly white marks.

"What are…" He reached forward to stroke a trail of dotted scars, "…these?"

Russia grinned darkly but he didn't let it bother him. "Only children's teeth marks."

Lithuania blinked—Russia was definitely hiding something. The answer to his own question was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't quite grasp (nor understand) it either.

Ivan raised a hand to press Toris's palm against his textured skin. The look he was giving him was strange—there wasn't anything malicious about it but it was like Russia was _daring_ him to guess.

Lithuania noticed there were even more grain-sized markings on the opposite side of his neck and they were all aligned along his jugular vein. He suddenly became aware of the strong pulse beneath his palm.

"Ivan… What did they put into you?"

He didn't answer but Toris had already figured it out.

"Th-they _didn't…_" …_No, not to their own country. No one would ever do that_.

And even as he said that, he noticed that fainter but similar marks were layered underneath the more distinguished ones.

His hand slid down to his chest, tracing the thin lines and _God_, he hoped they would fade away soon (but he knew that it was very much unlikely). Russia remained silent and still, allowing Lithuania to explore the light and dark network of scars. His fingers trailed all the way down to his hip.

Toris reached the area that was much whiter and glossier than the surrounding skin. His fingers met a shallow dip—

—and he met a wave of nauseating sickness.

"…Toris? Why do you look so upset?"

Both of his hands left Russia's body to cover his mouth. Something bubbled in his stomach and he wasn't sure if he could even speak without retching.

"Toris?"

_Why…? Why are you looking at me like that when…?_

"…They-they _skinned_ you, Russia." It was not a question. He wanted- he _needed _to say more but it was all he could manage.

"Oh-" His own hand touched his side to feel the ghost of the old wound—the gruesome one. "-this? It doesn't hurt anymore, Lithuania, and besides-" he reached out to trace a line beneath Lithuania's quivering Adam's apple, mimicking the feel of a knife, "I already killed them."

There was a flurry of motion and Russia was suddenly on top of Lithuania. His face had darkened from the shadow of his arm, his aspects partially hidden from the window light but Toris could still make out his features. His grimace and quivering eyes reminded him of a guilty yet fearful child, and when he spoke, his voice was broken with remorse. "I… I killed _all_ of them. I burned the wires, the medicine, the corpses, _everything._ Do you still smell it, Lithuania? Do you?"

It hurt, it hurt to see Russia like this—drenched in his own regret for his _rightful_ vengeance. It hurt, but Lithuania willed himself not to look away, and he willed himself not to flinch when Russia wrapped his hands around his neck, allowing the ghastly light to irradiate his face.

"And all that time, you were standing over me, watching. No, I _thought_ you were. I was so convinced, but at the same time, I knew, _I knew_ I was holding onto a lie—a sweet lie given to me by the very same drugs used to tame me. You have to understand," his voice changed to something like desperation, "i-it was all I had! You- _no - _the _fake _kept me from truly dying, Toris."

His words turned forebodingly quiet. "But you were still the first thing I saw when I woke up from that hell; I was so happy, but so angry at the same time. I thought I had died and that the angels were simply mocking me." Abruptly, the fingers that were wrapped around his neck turned rigid and Lithuania inhaled sharply before he could stop himself, "I thought you were my punishment, Toris. Right then and there, I wanted to kill you. I wanted to kill you _so bad_, to crush this neck of yours and see you lying at my feet."

His eyes had considerably moistened, tears clinging dangerously to the ends of his lashes as he looked down at the silent Lithuania, the silent Lithuania who was looking back up at him without fear.

"That's not true," he had spoken aloud. His words were solid and clear, his gaze unwavering now. "That's not true, Ivan—you never wanted to hurt me." He touched and led Russia's hands away from his neck. He pressed his palms flat against his and intertwined their fingers. "You were only… confused, lost."

He let out a humorless chuckle. "But it doesn't matter, at least not to the others, da? There's still something wrong with me, Toris. Can't-can't you see it? Madness, I'm mad. I've been mad for a long time now, da?"

"No… No you are not."

"I sacrificed so many, Lithuania! Only a murderer, only a _monster_ w-would…"

"Russia," his gaze was piercing, "I only found you. I didn't find a murderer or a monster on that day. I didn't."

"But aren't I that monster, Toris? _Everything_ is my fault, after all. It always is. Because of me… you, you could've died. Died from _me._.."

He paused to lower his ear to Lithuania's beating heart. His own pulse synchronized with the reverberating heartbeats as he indulged in the strong warmth. "So cold… you would've been so cold, Lithuania."

**-x-X-x-**

_To Anonymous Reviewer #5356: First off, sorry for the belated reply, though I'm not sure if you were looking for one or not. To answer your question about China's role in this story, the only reason is that I never actually intended for him to play a huge part in this particular story. I also didn't intend for him to appear as a jackass/antagonist to the reader. In Chapter 6, the reason why he portrayed as such was because the chapter was in Russia's POV, and Russia being considerably pissed off at the time didn't really appreciate China's involvement. China was trying to convince Russia to take part and pick a side so he could get things over with and minimize his suffering, but Russia didn't view it that way. He didn't even give the other a chance to explain like I'm explaining now. But China must've thought about things in a different light after he left, he was the one who freed Russia (not Lithuania) after all. Thank you for the review and compliment though, I hope I've made things clearer._

Don't get me wrong, guys; constructive criticism is a-ok.

Oh and another thing to clear up: This story is not historically accurate. It has some historical references (that are restated here in the Author's Note) but the plot itself is purely my imagination. Unfortunately, we still live in a world where Prussia still doesn't exist and where Lithuanians still hold a grudge against Russia :C Painful reality we have here oTL

Now about the chapter itself, It took me over seven days to write this. Average time is three days. What is wrong with me? x-x; I guess I was kind of occupied with events in real life, I'm going to graduate from middle school really soon and truth be told, I'm excited.

Anyways, I'm not pleased with this chapter mainly because it took so long to write it and it only turned out average in length and below-average in quality oTL Guys, bear with me here.

This story is also turning out a TAD longer that I originally planned. I promised some people only one more chapter after this, but it looks like there's actually going to be two. Whee?

Like always, thank you for reading~

(whyisthisshipsoangsty)


	10. Chapter IX

**Chapter IX**

Poland let his head bang against the walls of his confined cell, obscene curses running through his mind. Bumps and bruises were already forming on his temple— remains from his last "interrogation". He swore his entire arm was dislocated and he didn't bother to try and fix it.

It wasn't like he was getting out of here anytime soon.

He cursed his own carelessness and the absolute-attentiveness of the guards. At first, he didn't notice anyone hunting him down when he was headed towards the exit. By the time he realized what was happening, it was much too late. He didn't know _how_ they caught on—he was being careful, wasn't he?

They weren't wrong though—Feliks couldn't deny that. At least they didn't know who he really was—it would mean a lot of trouble, for himself and for Liet.

He wanted to lie down, but he couldn't. He wasn't going to let any of them think their methods where getting to him—he hadn't given up yet. Poland closed his eyes, replaying the events in his head.

Everyone he passed paid no mind to him like he hoped, but it didn't matter. They must've known from the beginning. _That's_ why five guards were waiting for him at the entrance. He still didn't understand how he had screwed up…

Poland groaned. Lithuania needed him—he didn't have enough time to lie around in a cell. He had the urgency to talk to another nation, any nation, to tell them about what he heard. Perhaps he could…

"Hey!" He called loudly, banging on the bars, trying his best to get the prison guard's attention. "Hey whatever your name is! Do you know a guy named Ludwig? I need to like, talk to him!" He waited intently for a response.

"No one's allowed to see the prisoner," the guard answered dryly. Poland was alone in the cells but he could still hear the guard's voice from the main hallway.

"Oh come on!"

"No one's allowed to see the prisoner," he repeated.

Well, if _that's_ how it was going to be…

-x-X-x-

Lithuania led his unit through the first snow.

The air was frigid and wet and Toris tried his best to quell the others' many complaints. His men were supposed to meet up with the Russians further southwest towards the Oblast. Together, they were going to attempt one major push to seal things off liberate the city.

Everything was going according to plan but they knew they were traveling further and further away from the supply trains. There was no sanctuary in these mountains and the nearest town was their rendezvous point.

"We're almost there!" Lithuania heartened, though he wasn't sure if the others even heard him when a mournful gale drowned out his voice. He glanced back to make sure everyone was still standing and following—they were.

He turned back around and adjusted his rifle belt. The black leather held a starking contrast with his white winter uniform. As he shifted the strap a little downwards, it snagged against a slender amber slab that was strung around his neck.

Lithuania untangled the object and fiddled around with it with numb fingers, gazing down upon it fondly as he continued to trudge through the snow and ice. The amber pendant had dulled and fogged over from the cold, but it still reminded him of something he could not have in a place like this.

_He was leaning against the frozen wood of a fallen tree, enjoying the last campfire he will have in a while. Everyone else was seated at the opposite side of the fire, eating and talking feverishly. Suddenly, a soldier prodded him from the side, offering a pale-yellow envelope._

_Slightly bewildered, he accepted the thin package. The solder returned to his place on a log and Toris set to studying the envelope. It was addressed from Latvia._

_He frowned. The two had done what he told them to do—cut off all connections from him, which they obeyed for several months until now, apparently._

_He shrugged and tore an opening. Inside was a fairly long letter and…_

_Something tumbled into his palm when he turned the envelope upside-down. It was gold in color and translucent, allowing the firelight to illuminate it beautifully. The object itself was half the length of his thumb and even thinner in width. A worn-out leather cord was strung through a small hole that had been drilled into the amber. A warrior on horseback and a rampant eagle were carved on either side of the object. Overtime, the design had worn down a bit, but the details still lasted. _

_It took him a second to remember what the object was, and when he did, he smiled faintly. He began to read the letter, feeling unusually cheerful yet wistful at the same time._

'_Dear Toris,_

_I hope you got this safely. I don't think you would've been happy with me if the package ended up getting lost; I hope it made it to you on time._

_Do you remember what this is? It was the good luck amber Feliks gave to you when you two formed the Commonwealth together. Those were the days… You gave it to me for safekeeping long time ago, remember? You said to keep it safe and make sure no one got to it when Ivan took you away for the first time. I kind of forgot about it after that though, I'm sorry. I only realized I still had it after thinking about you when it started snowing here. _

_How are you? We don't get a lot of news or information about the war because you know… You told us to leave. Eduard is still upset about it but I think he's getting better. We still have each other, you know? _

_But why did you make us go? We could've fought together; you know we wouldn't have minded. I always thought about it every night, but I think I understand you a little more now, Toris. Still, the both of us can't help but worry._

_I'm trying to remember everything I'm supposed to tell you. _

_Oh yes, America keeps stopping by Eduard's houses and mine. One of the few things we hear about you is that you guys are moving around a lot. America tried to meet you at your own home the other day but I guess he missed you. There was something he really wanted to tell you and Russia, but I'm not allowed to say in this letter. I promised. It must be something really important. Better luck next time, I guess?_

_Talking about the lack of better luck, we heard the news about Kaliningrad earlier. I wanted to send a letter back then when it happened, but I never really got around to it. The city was supposed to be an advantage point America told me, so is Russia okay? It feels so odd writing about him to be honest—please don't tell him that!_

_But more importantly, please come home safe. Sometimes it gets a little lonely up here and I don't know what we would do if something happened to you. I better not think about it too much. I'm sure that's what you would've told us if we were still together._

_Oh, I'm making you worry, aren't I? I'm sorry! I would start over but I already threw away a lot of paper because of the first part. I'm doing fine, actually! Better than you know who… I'm terrible with writing, aren't I? Sorry, sorry._

_So, how is Poland? Are you two fighting together?_

_Make sure you wear that charm all the time now that I've given it back to you! It's for good luck and I think you need it._

_Please be safe!_

_With Love,  
Raivis Gallante '_

_Still smiling, Lithuania folded the letter and tucked it along with the envelope it came with into one of his pockets, making a note to himself to write a return letter tomorrow. He then took out a piece of twine and replaced the leather cord that was falling apart. He tied the pendant around his neck, bouncing the piece of amber in his palm before holding it still to study the ancient insignia._

_He silently laughed to himself as the others looked at him curiously._

Lithuania snapped back to reality when he saw someone collapse from the corner of his eye. He quickly rushed to the soldier's side as everyone else stopped in their tracks.

"What's wrong?" He asked, expecting trouble. The wind had died down considerably enough for his voice to be heard this time.

"I broke my leg from the last scuffle, sir," he answered apologetically, patting his twisted limb.

Lithuania clicked his tongue as he observed the injury. It wasn't dreadfully serious, but the man couldn't walk on it anymore less he wanted to lose the foot to frostbite. "You should've told me sooner," Lithuania scolded, handing his gear to another soldier.

"My apologies, sir. I didn't want to slow everyone down."

Lithuania pulled his own arms back as he turned around. "Never mind that now, I'll carry you for the rest of the way."

"I…"

He sniffed impatiently. "It's the fastest way for all of us. I don't want you losing that leg of yours."

He climbed on and Lithuania was grateful that the man was much lighter than he expected. "I'm sorry about this, Commander."

"It's my job to take care of my subordinates—I just want you to focus on taking care of that leg of yours when we reach base. I promise there will be a proper medic waiting for us."

"Yes sir."

-x-X-x-

"Oh my God, you're actually _here. _Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting?"

"A week and a half? _I don't know,_" Germany growled. "You were lucky. It's hard to remain unnoticed when you're shouting '_Germany'_ all the time, you moron. These people have no idea who-"

Poland cut him off, staring at him from between bars with an exasperated expression plastered on his face. "Yeah, yeah I know already. I didn't think you would actually come here so I was getting pretty desperate. Can you really blame me?"

"I- _no_, wait- _what are you even doing here?"_

"Spying," he replied simply like it was normal thing to do. "Well I _was_ spying until I ended up here." He looked around disapprovingly. "Danky place if you ask me."

"Well, then you're a terrible spy. How _did_ you get caught? Tell everyone why you're here?"

"As if." Poland glowered, aggravated. "I was being played and they had me caught before I even got the chance to run for it when I got the info. I still can't figure out how, and it's pissing me off just, like, thinking about it, seriously."

Germany sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "If you want me to bail you out, then you're out of luck. You're on Prussia's territory here."

"Well that's one thing I was sorta hoping for, I guess, but there's something else I need to tell you- well, anyone actually, but you're all I have."

Ludwig refrained from making a sarcastic comment. "I can't help your friend either."

"This isn't just about Liet, or me! _Just listen_, okay?"

He sighed again and looked towards the open entrance to the lighted hallway—no one was eavesdropping, and he had time to spare. "Fine, but make sure no one hears us."

-x-X-x-

Prussia almost shattered the mirror with his fist, blood and bile dripping from his mouth and into the sink that he was leaning over.

_I'll kill him, I'll kill him…_

Something burned in his core and he retched again. Someone was knocking from outside of the bathroom, calling his name repetitively. He wiped the filth from the corner of his mouth before snapping angrily, "_I'm fine, now leave me the fuck alone!"_

He collapsed to his knees, fatigue rapidly draining his energy. He rested his forehead against the cool marble of the sink, closing his eyes—he couldn't stand the white and bright magenta that bleached out his entire vision. His head throbbed to an agonizing beat.

_Buildings were collapsing in on themselves, roads were breaking, and the cities were engulfed within a giant ring of hellfire-_

_The people-_

_-The people were dying._

"But _sir_, the airstrike from Lithuania-"

"_I already fucking know about it!"_

If the damn moron was still persisting, Prussia couldn't tell hear him for at that very moment a sudden burst of pain violently racked his body. Stars interrupted his vision of fire as human screams echoed endlessly in his ears.

-x-X-x-

"He's going to slaughter his own people. I heard it myself, his boss is going to kill enough people and burn down enough of his cities to make Gilbert hurt like hell and go after Lithuania."

"_But why would he—?"_

Poland took a deep breath that turned out more like a shuddering gasp. His heart hammered in his chest as anxiety made the hands clenching the prison bars tremble. "T-think about it like this, 'kay? If… If Gilbert is distracted with hunting down Liet, his boss will be free to do whatever he likes—not that he would mind if he was convinced that Lithuania was the one that attacked him in the first place. I-I was there to hear _everything_. The reason why they haven't gone all out against Liet and Ivan was because Prussia was stopping them from giving the command.

"To be honest, I sort of hate the guy for what he did to Liet, but he isn't as low as… as his boss… As much as I hate to admit it, Gilbert's the only thing that's keeping his boss from being a total bastard."

Germany wasn't sure of what to say. It seemed so _unrealistic_, yet possible at the same time. He didn't want to believe Poland but if what he was saying was true… "N-no one would permit him to go that far… It doesn't work like that."

"Germany! You know war, _you know it_! What does five cities matter to you when you can like win an _entire_ country for yourself—and _guess_ who's sending a never-ending stream of aid to Russia while they're both fighting their asses off?"

"Poland…"

Feliks' head was bowed and his entire body was shaking. His pale bangs shadowed his entire face but Germany could still feel the heated passion and anguish emanating profusely from the other nation. "That's not it…"

He only waited in silence for him to go on.

"What…whatever he's planning will kill Liet, and if it doesn't, Prussia will finish it personally. In the end, if everything goes his way, Lithuania won't exist anymore."

"…But surely he knows the other nations will punish the whole country for it," Ludwig tried to deny. This couldn't be true at all, it just couldn't.

Poland shook his head. "Liet will be framed for directly attacking Prussia's civilians, so guess who's gonna get framed for rubbing out Liet?"

"I…"

"You, Germany, _you_ will."

-x-X-x-

There was still a pounding sensation in the back of his skull when he awoke on the cold, hard bathroom floor.

Gilbert managed to sit up without collapsing again though his limbs still trembled, threatening to give out on him. Aside from the growing migraine that filled his head, the only thing he could feel was the deepening hatred in his core. He didn't try to push it away—anything, _anything_ was better than the torment he had just experienced.

There… There was nowhere else he could look. He knew it was all in his head, but it was real, and it was happening.

_Flashes_. He saw flashes of what his own people were going through in his mind's eye. It was impossible to recall every image that had blurred passed in the chaotic rush of noise and activity, but he could still feel the fear and confusion as if everything was happening to _him_.

And it was.

_Explosions shook the ground, ripping fissures into the asphalt as people scrambled for safety in a midst of turmoil and raining shells. Perhaps an hour, a minute, or even a couple of seconds had passed before the sky was dyed a sickly red from the smoke and fire._

_The fire. The fire was roaring and spreading. Another shell exploded somewhere else, new flames erupting from the splintered building. _

His mouth still contained the bitter taste of bile and the cry of sirens rung in his ears—it was enough to drive anyone mad. He clenched his fists tightly, tightly enough to pierce his own skin but Gilbert didn't care at all—all the _rage_ he felt drove every feeling of physical pain from his body.

He didn't understand.

Lithuania was his enemy, yes, but he had never expected for him to sink this low. It made him feel sick.

He thought it was impossible that someone like _Lithuania_ could make him feel betrayed like this. Being proven otherwise only drove his anger further. He had allowed ceasefire so the line between civilian and soldier would remain distinct. That was the agreement.

It was supposed to be.

It was an odd sensation—his heart pounding against the underside of ribs caused his chest to ache horribly every time he took a shuddering breath. When the fire had eventually burned itself out, his skin froze over like an icy lake. Cold sweat ran down the length of his face, soaking his collar.

It was fear- _no-_ helplessness that was robbing him of his strength. He had felt fear several times before (though he never admitted it), but this was something else. He felt vulnerable and violated, like there was something that could kill him from the inside out. He felt he could disappear any moment now if he didn't do anything in retaliation.

So… that was it then, wasn't it?

-x-X-x-

"What do you want me to do?"

"Get me out of here if you can. Then we need to find either Prussia or Lithuania. Preferably not together though, because that would be bad."

Germany studied his condition. He was still dressed in a Prussian guard's uniform, his hair was a bit matted and smudged, and his right arm seemed to dangle uselessly. "Can you walk?"

"Course I can. It's just this _arm…_ God, is it okay for them to be twisting people's limbs off or something?"

"You are sentenced for execution."

"Wha-" He bit his tongue in time when he saw Germany mouth, _"play along."_

"Y-you bastard!" Poland corrected himself. "I already told you what you wanted to know, so _let me out!"_

"An enemy's espionage agent is supposed to be executed on the spot after interrogation. Feel grateful you have been allowed to live this long." He unlocked the cell with a long silver key. "Now if you will."

"_Fuck you!"_ Poland shouted angrily, kicking and banging the bars on his way out of the cell. Germany took him by the back of his collar with one hand, and used the other to clamp his wrists together. "They'll kill you for this! I swear they'll kill you!"

Germany nudged him towards the entrance. "Be silent," he ordered apathetically.

"Like _hell _I will," Feliks retorted just as the two stopped in front of the prison guard's desk.

"I'm taking this one to be shot. He already told me everything I need to know."

Poland craned his head to glare at the prison guard with the dirtiest look he could muster. He hoped Germany knew what he was doing.

"Um, but sir, I've been told by my sup-"

"Your superiors have given me the obligation to dirty my hands with this task. He's been through trial and he's been found guilty of leaking information."

"Won't you at least need any assistance…?"

"Not at all," he replied stiffly, pushing Poland along, "I know where I'm going."

Poland found it safe to breath again when Germany shoved him into an empty room a safe distance away from the cells. "Ow, careful… Messed-up arm here."

"Try not to scream too loud."

"What are you-" His words were interrupted with a muffled yell and sickening _pop_ when Germany seized his elbow and forced his arm to return to its socket. He eyes watered from the sudden burst of pain.

"Don't complain now, we have to get you out of here." He pointed towards the window.

"Why… why not the exit?"

"It's three meters, you can manage from here. Everyone already knows who you are—we're lucky no one else saw us but the guard." He walked over to the window and slid open the glass pane. He stuck his head out to judge the distance from the window to the ground. "It'll be fine and we have to hurry. Someone will figure out something's wrong soon."

Germany began to climb onto the windowsill. "Wait, do you like, even have an idea on where we're running to?" Poland asked doubtfully. He wasn't looking forward to jumping out of a window with a sore arm but Ludwig wasn't giving him much of a choice either.

"It's simple. Lithuania chased out Gilbert's men from his key cities and out of the countryside altogether. The only thing they need to take care of is liberating one of Russia's more important cities—Kaliningrad. The place is in ruins now, but I believe he's planning on rebuilding everything once matters settle down."

"So Liet will be in that area, right? How long do you think it'll take us?"

"A day, maybe less if we go by air but we should keep a low profile." He unbuttoned the top of his uniform and tossed it to a confused Feliks. "So they won't recognize you from far away," he explained.

Poland nodded and put the jacket on. It was a little big on him, but that didn't matter. He needed to get to the Kaliningrad Oblast quick.

-x-X-x-

"Where is he heading to?"

"Oh, so you've finally come to your senses?"

"I didn't say anything about that, you old geezer."

"Funny how ones like _you_ should be more respectful towards their leaders…"

"_Where the fuck is he heading to?_" A glass shattered, or more like exploded.

There was a sigh. "Well if you must know, several forces are headed toward Kaliningrad- or _Konigsberg_- if that's what you prefer. Lithuania has smaller battles going on in the surrounding area. They definitely have their eyes set on the city, or what's left of it. Amazing what a single fire can do, no?"

"… I'm leaving."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Well good luck in neutralizing the enemy. This is one battle _I prefer not to lose_."

There was a loud curse and an even louder slam.

-x-X-x-

This. This was his first mistake.

He and Russia were faced with a field of rubble and hardly-standing buildings. He walked passed the remains of a church lay scattered over the charred skeleton of a school. Everything faced towards the sea—the same one his own country shared. Lithuania shivered—he hated to think that there were still men and women resting silently beneath the dark waves.

They were walking along the edge of the city where the sea spray could reach their faces even from where they were standing. The mist felt like frost against his skin as he licked his lips—they tasted strongly of salt.

There was a faint rumbling beneath their feet before a huge chunk of plaster detached itself from its pipe structure. Then there was the loud groaning of metal, and the supports broke and fell apart into the lapping waves. A single chunk from the wall rolled to Lithuania's feet. He felt thankful he told the others to stay away from any severely damaged edifice that might've still been standing (at the time). The last thing he wanted was someone getting crushed.

"A fire must've broken out after we left," Lithuania guessed without any humor in his voice, "Some things were still standing in one piece the last time I saw the place. I believe there used to be a tower somewhere around here." He nudged the block of cement and it rolled off the hill of rubble the two were standing upon. There was a dull _crack_, and the block broke into many more pieces. "Does it still hurt?"

Ivan shook his head. "Nyet, not really but it will be gone completely once the new day starts, da?"

"It will," Toris agreed. He slipped off his gloves and rubbed his chapped hands together. He was shivering slightly since he had left all his gear back at the makeshift camp. The damp air seemed to soak through his clothes and embrace his skin unpleasantly.

It was supposed to be noon but the achromatic clouds blocked the sun, blanching out the world. It has been several days and the fog and clouds haven't even cleared up once. Well, this was supposed to be expected of the winter, but it didn't stop him from growing tired with the endless gray.

Russia seemed to notice his discomfort for he stepped closer and pulled the Lithuanian towards himself, enveloping him with his arms. Toris thought he wasn't any warmer than the seawater spraying his face, but at least he felt safe like this—like nothing wrong could ever happen.

-x-X-x-

He awoke with a start.

Toris felt someone whisper words of misfortune into his ear, yet he couldn't recall exactly what the words were. He searched the darkness with his eyes as he reached for his rifle. Even in a place like this, a cricket was chirping.

He was sitting atop a large cement slab that protruded from another pile of rubble. There was no way someone could have snuck up on him without upsetting _something_. Yet, even as Lithuania tried to reassure himself, the back of his neck continued to prickle.

There was something else draped around his shoulders. Puzzled, he slipped the object off of himself and was immediately hit by a cold gust of air. It didn't take him long to realize that _someone_ (he smiled faintly to himself) must've wrapped the blanket around him shortly after he accidentally fell asleep.

Toris took the heavy blanket in his hands, his heart growing hot. He got up from his resting spot and left the blanket where it was. At least he will have something warm when he comes back.

With his free hand, Toris reached towards his collar to feel the amber pendent—it wasn't there. A wave of panic washed over him as he frantically searched the ground for the lost object

_I… I probably dropped it somewhere back at the camp_.

It was definitely somewhere in the city. He remembered holding the pendent just as he stepped into the field of debris, but even so, it would be impossible to find it again in a place like this.

He knew it was puerile, but the necklace made him feel secure in Russia's absence. Now that it was gone, the atmosphere felt all the more foreboding.

Lithuania clicked the safety of his gun off—the prickling returned.

He swept the surroundings with his eyes once more. No one was there, but he knew better. Just then, dawn broke over the horizon, casting a pale light over the vast wreckage.

He sighed, fogging the air with his breath. He was freezing—he left behind most of his gear because he didn't expect himself to fall asleep during his shift.

So perhaps it wall all in his head; maybe the cold and paranoia was getting to him—

--until he felt it again. Despite the algidity, the air seemed to shimmer before his eyes. Raw, shapeless, _hostile_ emotion crawled under his skin, making his breath run short. Something… something wasn't right at all.

Toris was running towards the center of it all now.

The necklace would have to wait.

-x-X-x-

He knew he would come.

Gilbert paced the scorched mosaics of what used to be a park. Whatever trees or flowers that where planted here long burned away with the fire.

He wasn't mistaken—Lithuania was definitely here. Another nation's presence felt different from an "ordinary" human's, and he felt two. Well, now he could finish everything in a single shot, like he should've since the beginning.

Gilbert wondered whether it would be best for him to make it quick or draw it out. He could always force the Lithuanian to witness his dearest partner's death. That's why he was fighting in the first place, right? To protect _him_. It was absolutely pathetic—all of it. Maybe he needed to remind him how helplessness felt again.

"So it was you."

It was still dark, but not pitch dark. Prussia could still see the green irises glaring at him from several meters away. He hated, _hated,_ those eyes with such a burning passion. The grip around his pistol tightened—he wanted nothing more than to plant a bullet in the Lithuanian's chest and watch the light in those _eyes_ extinguish into nothing… Like the fires that had burned away his precious people.

"Are you surprised to see me?"

"No, but I was hoping I could end this without having to see your face ever again."

Prussia laughed mirthlessly, throwing out his arm in either directions. "You? _End this?_ You disgust me, Toris, you really do."

Lithuania had his rifle pointed at him but he didn't shoot—Gilbert didn't expect him to, he didn't even think this person had the heart- the _will_- to kill him and "end" it.

He himself, however, was the complete opposite. He was more than willing.

The sun was supposed to be rising now and Lithuania was facing west. A great mass of wreckage loomed behind him like a needled tower, obscuring the sun.

Lithuania seemed to be unaffected with his evident rage. His normally warm eyes were laced with an intense loathing. "The feeling's mutual in war."

_Don't… you… dare… look down… on me._

To his surprise, Lithuania cast aside his gun—it was not an unfamiliar gesture.

"There's no way our weapons can match each other," he said, throwing off his white cloak, revealing a forest green battledress. He unsheathed a knife from his side and pointed it at Prussia. "Like this, no one will know."

This was definitely a deviation from his plans but his behavior was intriguing him—he'll play along for now. "You want to keep me away from the Russian, don't you?" He dropped the pistol and replaced it with his own knife. "You're tired and exhausted and I beat you the first time, how is this going to be any different?

"I'll make it different."

Gilbert could see the contempt in his eyes turn into pure determination as they stepped closer towards the center. What _was_ Russia to him? He didn't understand Lithuania—it was always about others, not him. He knew what love felt like. He knew what it was like to have someone close (thinking about Germany made his heart clench), but this person had something different.

"So after everything that man did to you, you're still willing to fight for him—to die if you have to. Do you even _know_ what you're doing?"

"I've known for a long time now."

"I don't get you at all."

"…I know."

They exchanged no words when Lithuania made the first move. Sparks flew from between their blades and Gilbert almost dropped his weapon from the shock of the blow.

Toris didn't wait for him to regain his hold as he aimed for the neck; Prussia blocked it just in time. His whole arm trembled violently under the sheer force—Lithuania was serious.

_There's no way… there's no way I came out here for nothing_.

-x-X-x-

Lithuania knew it was something personal when he saw Prussia standing amidst the ruin, most likely waiting for _him_.

He had no intention of letting the war drag on, but he knew he would never be satisfied with just _defeating_ Prussia for the sake of ending things. Everything needed a meaning, and Toris was determined to settle his share of desires.

Russia will never suffer again.

That was the resolve he kept alit in his heart for all this time even as he forced his blade closer and closer to Gilbert's neck.

That was the resolve he was willing to die for.

He brought his gaze up to look at Prussia in the eye. There was a similar determination burning in those scarlet orbs, but it was for a different cause, and when he searched even deeper, he found nothing but a killing intent. It was the same rage he had felt in the air earlier—he knew Gilbert would not hold back, but neither would he.

Their knives broke contact and Lithuania easily brushed away an attack towards his middle. Gilbert stepped back in a haste and his foot sunk between two slabs of cement and piping. Toris forwent his instinct for mercy and decided to take advantage of the impediment and aimed his knife straightforward.

There was a horrifying crack before Prussia freed himself to avoid the blade. Lithuania spared a fleeting second to glance at his feet. His right ankle was twisted in an extremely awkward position—he had broken his own bones just to get out of the way.

His second thoughts were cut short when Gilbert lunged towards him despite the injury. Now his speed and ferocity increased and Lithuania was forced a step back. A chunk of plaster broke away and his foot struggled to find another hold. He stepped to the side and Prussia's knife snagged and ripped open his sleeve, grazing the skin underneath.

"Don't you dare think I've lost yet," Gilbert snarled angrily, sending a vertical slash towards his face. Lithuania blocked it with his knife on its way up and used both hands to try and push it away. Gilbert drew the weapon back only to plunge it deep into the Lithuanian's shoulder.

He cried out in pain before wrapping his hands around Prussia's to rip the blade out. The deep wound started to openly bleed and Toris clenched his teeth, trying to ignore the pain pulsating from the wound. He definitely didn't hit a vital, but the injury proved to be more than just distracting. He didn't have to worry about taking advantage of anyone now.

Prussia was standing not too far from him. He held the now-bloody weapon with both hands as his ankle quivered dangerously from beneath the weight he was putting onto it. If Lithuania kept fighting, he would surely faint from the blood loss. The two of them won't be able to make it any longer.

He raised his other arm to strike back—

_Ba-thump-_

His eyes widened in shock as a wall of heat hit him.

_Ba-thump-_

His entire body was frozen. His insides erupted in flames.

_**Ba-thump…**_

He wanted to ask what was happening but his lips were locked in a silent scream of agony.

The gray sky faded from his vision.

And then he knew.

_Vilnius… Vilnius was burning_.

The heat… the heat was too much. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and wait for the onslaught to subside, but his body refused him.

It was too sudden. His body was in a state of shock now—he couldn't move at all. The only thing he could see was a wall of flame, and the only thing he could feel was that wall of flame eating away at his skin.

And just as quickly as the fire came, something else-something _cold_ was flooding his middle, battling the internal fire. It felt like a sword of ice had been thrown through his center.

He unclenched his eyes and slowly gazed down, the flickering lights fading away from his sight. Something metallic pierced through from underneath his clothing. The knife slipped from his grasp as he lifted shaking fingers to the object—its surface was slick with something red.

He observed his scarlet fingers through half-lidded eyes. The world seemed so much smaller now as his heart beat like a drum within his ears.

There was the sound of rubber scraping against concrete and Lithuania stopped the knife inches away from entering his heart with a single hand. Prussia looked at him in utter shock as he tried to push the weapon further—Toris only clenched his fingers tighter. The blade cut deep into his palm and blood gushed between his fingers but it didn't move any closer towards its target.

Gilbert tried to pull away now, but Lithuania didn't loosen his grip. With unseeing eyes, he reached forward to take the second pistol that was kept at the other's waist. Toris slipped his finger over the trigger and touched the mouth of the gun to Prussia's forehead.

Warm blood trickled from between his lips as he spoke faintly, "You… you will never harm us again."

-x-X-x-

Poland almost collapsed on all fours when he reached steady ground. Germany was standing right beside him, offering him support. The ruined city appalled them both but there was no time to waste.

Ivan and Toris were supposed to be here—they needed to find them quick.

"I-I hope they're really…" Poland gasped as the two of them broke into a run, searching.

"They have to be. This is the only place…" Germany tried to reassure him but he understood his anxiety. Shortly after they escaped, they realized the first part of the plan had already been carried out. It took all of Poland's strength to keep Germany from going ballistic.

Feliks, however, couldn't deny that the attacks meant Prussia was already set on hunting Lithuania down. They needed to hurry. _Everything_ was at stake.

Poland sharply turned behind a segment of stonewalls and nearly fell into a pit of broken cement. A strong hand latched onto the back of his collar, preventing him from falling.

"Poland?" Came the soft voice. "What are you doing here?" Russia pulled the smaller nation back and looked at Germany. "Why is Ludwig here?"

Poland didn't wait to catch his breath. "I can't explain now, Russia. Where's Lithuania?"

"Lithuania is… injured. Gilbert is in this city, da? He's fighting Lithuania again, da?" His gaze iced over, but he quickly looked away.

"Ivan, he's going to—"

The sound of a gunshot violently split the air.

-x-X-x-

Gilbert pressed a hand to the side of his head, stemming the flow of the blood. If he hadn't let go and moved out of the way at the last second, he'd be laying on the floor, dead with a bullet hole in his temple.

There was a clank of metal when Toris dropped the knife, allowing the blood to drip freely from his fingertips. The smoking pistol remained in his other hand. He rasped throatily, speaking again.

"Never…"

He hacked as coagulated blood spilled from his mouth and splattered onto the concrete in puddles. Perhaps if his vision were clearer, he would be able to see his own reflection—to see the metal that had torn straight through his body. His mind was becoming aware of the immense pain in his torso now, but it wasn't over, not yet. He won't let it end like this.

Lithuania stepped forward, slowly pulling away from the metal shaft that impaled him. Every step sent a crippling wave of agony throughout him but he needed to get free…

He needed to see Ivan again…

The never-ending burning in his heart threatened to consume him but he willed himself to pull free.

Prussia stepped a safe distance back as he stepped closer.

"You've gone insane…"

If he could, Lithuania would've laughed at that. _Maybe… Maybe I have_.

He raised the gun to fire again but all his strength left him and his knees gave away.

He waited for the unforgiving ground to collide with his face but it never came. Instead, he was caught and wrapped with something warm and soft. He felt shielded, protected in these familiar arms. He smiled weakly, the blood on his lips still wet and glistening.

"Ivan."

-x-X-x-

"It wasn't Lithuania. He was using you all this time."

"… So that was it then. He… he meant to kill him himself, I was only the pawn."

"Gilbert…?"

"Help me out of here, West. I need to stop them…"

Germany looked towards Poland who nodded, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears.

-x-X-x-

_I don't understand._

_Why?_

_Why are you covered in so much red?_

"Ivan." _Toris._

Blood continued to bleed from the gruesome wound, surrounding them in a solid halo of crimson. "Don't speak, Toris… We'll take you to the doctor an-and you'll get better, Toris. You will…"

"I… I failed you didn't I?" His voice was barely audible but Russia made sure he could hear every word.

He tightly gripped one of Lithuania's hands and brought it up to his cheek. The skin was colder than the surrounding air. "Don't say that. Y-you saved me. The war is over now, you ended the war!" They were empty words but he needed to say something, anything.

"It's over… You're… safe now… I-I can…"

His heart spasmed painfully. "No, no, _no_! Toris! You promised-you promised you would stay with me forever, that you would never leave me! Spring is coming, da? It'll get warmer and better. There will be sunflowers, the bright ones. They're beautiful, Toris, they're…" His voice caught in his throat as hot tears burned the corners of his eyes. This was never supposed to happen.

His glazed emeralds softened in sadness. Lithuania rasped, his eyes unmoving, "Feliks…"

"L-Liet?" He kneeled down, the olive irises overflowing with tears themselves.

"Maybe… maybe I can see you again… in the… the rye fields…"

"O-Of course you can, you… you idiot," he said, his voice cracking. "I-I'll be waiting…" His misery was at its peak. Having a heart never felt this painful, not even once in a millennia.

Lithuania's mouth pulled into a fading smile. "Don't… cry… over someone… like me."

"You-you're always saying things like that, Liet…"

"I…" His fingers tightened slightly around Ivan's. "I… I wanted to live on for a little while longer… I wanted to see… those sunflowers with you, Ivan…" His hand cupped the tear-soaked side of his face, his touch gentle.

"Take me with you, Toris. _Please!_ Don't… don't leave me here alone again!"

"Ivan." Something glimmering rolled down his cheek. "It's snowing."

Sure enough, snowflakes began floating down to earth in a serene sort of grace, covering the field of destruction with a chaste veil.

"You're… right, Toris…"

"It's… It's beautiful, isn't it?" The delicate snowflakes that settled on his face did not melt away. Ivan brushed them with his thumb and they turned into water at his very touch.

"It's beautiful…" Ivan agreed quietly, but Toris could no longer hear him.

-x-X-x-

-x-X-x-

* * *

If the world was so cold and undeserving

Then why do we still cry?

In the end

It's always the same

Both sides are meant to suffer

And we are absorbed

In our own suffering

I'm sorry…

I never intended for it to be this way

You must hate me

But

I still hope…

That you can l i v e o n . . .

. . . f o r

m e . . .

. . .

* * *

_Tbc in Chapter X_


	11. Chapter X : Epilogue

_Why do we have to hurt each other?_

_Why do we have to shed tears?_

_Life can be beautiful… if you try_

_Life can be joyful… if we try_

_Tell me_

_I'm not alone_

_Tell me_

_We are not alone in this world_

_Fighting against the wind_

* * *

**Chapter X**

It's been months.

It's been months and nothing's changed.

Russia walked down a road of crushed cement and rusting beams. He held nothing but a shred of bloodstained cloth clenched between his fingers like a lifeline. Today was the first day of April. Three hundred and thirty-eight days ago, he told Toris to be careful, feeling safe for the first time in ten years. One hundred and eighty days later, Toris spoke his last words. In twenty-seven days, it will be one year since everything happened.

But today was today—

--and today was supposed to be _beautiful_.

"I told you, da? Spring was coming and now it's here." He looked down and spotted a bright green plant sprouting from beneath a pile of charred bricks. It was already blooming with its delicate flowers of yellow. Russia looked back up and continued to talk to the empty air in front of him. "It's unusually warm today, Toris. Is this your doing?"

He spun around in a circle, his scarf billowing around him like a ring. "Your people are doing wonderful," he breathed, laughing. "The sun sets and rises everyday, every year. Time goes on. The plants grow, bloom, and bear fruit. But-" he stopped spinning, the false bliss faded away as quickly as it came, leaving him in a spiritless daze.

"-There is no life."

_There is no life in the people._

_There is no life in the warm, sunny days._

_There is no life in_ _the sunflowers that stand tall and still like scarecrows._

"My people are strong. No one dares to touch us now."

He reached for something underneath his coat and took out a simple Nagant revolver. The black metal was old and dull but the single bullet he slipped into the top chamber was sleek and polished. He stroked the length of the gun, studying it with a fixated fascination.

"They are strong."

He parted his lips and touched the muzzle to the back of his throat.

-x-X-x-

"Everything is over. We've created an armistice and the world has no use for you," Prussia spoke calmly despite the sever abhorrence in his eyes. "You're useless."

"So," he ex-leader sneered up at him from behind bars, "you've finally figured it all out."

Gilbert didn't rise for the bait. Instead, he forced himself to grin, drawing out the conversation to infuriate the man even further. "You made a deal with the former Russian government to split the country if they won the civil war—with your aid of course, but things didn't exactly go your way, now did it? That's why you had your eyes set on Lithuania since the start."

"That's right and Lithuania is dead. I couldn't have done it without your help, _Gilbert_."

His grin faltered a little. "I admit, you had me fooled with the 'good of your people' bullshit and Lithuania paid the price for it, but I have the whole future to repay my debts. You, however…" He opened up a pocket at his belt, revealing a single-shot pistol. "… might not be so lucky."

"You're going to kill me?" He eyed the gun warily.

Prussia shook his head. "Thousands have burned into nothing by your hands. Too many of my men have died for you and how do you repay them? You_ slaughter their families in their homes_, _Hurensohn_." He pointed the gun at his former boss, his finger twitching dangerously on the trigger. "No," he said firmly. "As much as I want to, I'm not going to kill you. There won't be any satisfaction with your quick death. You can live on for as long as you'd like."

He tossed the pistol through the bars. It skidded across the floor, resting at his feet. "When you want to end this pathetic life of yours is up to you. Inside is one bullet. Don't waste it," he turned around to leave, "I'm the last _human being_ you'll ever see, so don't depend on anyone to save you. Believe that."

He kept walking until he heard a scuffle. There was the scraping of metal against stone and a gunshot filled the cell. A spark flew from the door frame inches away from Prussia's hand, causing it to vibrate from the sharp impact. For a moment, everything was quiet and still—there was no dying grunt or cry of shock. A long second passed before a dull thud finally resounded throughout the room.

Gilbert smiled to himself, not sparing the dead man another glance.

-x-X-x-

"Are you sure you'll be fine in there by yourself?" Estonia asked him carefully.

Latvia nodded. "Yeah… There's one thing I wanted to do before… before…" _We leave here forever._

Estonia seemed to have understood his unspoken words when he nodded. "Okay. I'll wait out here for you."

Latvia muttered a _"thank you" _before hurrying up to the front door, which happened to have been unlocked when he tried it. Latvia guessed someone must've been here first but he didn't think too much about it.

When he entered, he felt the same welcoming atmosphere of Lithuania's home. He half-expected Lithuania himself to walk through the kitchen doors to greet him with that same smile wearing that same apron with _meile_ spelled across its front. His heart clenched painfully when he was met with nothing but an empty doorway.

Raivis shook his head, willing himself not to get distracted. He made his way towards Lithuania's office where he used to spend most of his days at. The doorknob was coated with dust when he twisted it, opening the French doors to the study.

He walked over to the desk, blocking out the painful memories of Lithuania hunched over stacks of paper, furiously signing each and every one of them. Even with him gone, his never-ending tide of work remained. Latvia breathed deeply, trying to calm himself.

With shaky hands, he withdrew a sprig of rue from his pocket and left it on Toris's desk. When he let the plant sit where it was, he noticed an envelope lying on top of all the paperwork—an envelope addressed to him. Someone else must've left it here for him to discover.

Afraid of what he might find, Latvia took the envelope and opened it. It contained a letter than was smudged with dirt and watermarks. A spot of mud was splattered in the far right corner.

'_Dear Raivis,_

_I got the letter safely, thank you. I feel ashamed for forgetting about the necklace. Feliks would not have been pleased with that, especially when he told me he worked "very hard" for it, which was well… hard to believe at the time, or anytime for that matter. But thank you for keeping it while I was gone._

_I'm doing fine. It's getting colder by the day and I want to finish this war by the new year. I figured Eduard would still be angry with me… I don't blame him. Tell him I'm sorry. I promise to make it up to you two when I return home. _

_Raivis, you have to understand. This is my fight, and my fight alone. Not yours, not Eduard's, and not even Ivan's. Ivan has his share of difficulties and I can't drag him down with me. I know what I'm fighting for and maybe you'll see when the time comes. But for now, you'll just have to bear with me, okay?_

_Oh, so Mr. America stopped by too? Please send him my apologies. He must know already, but tell him I'm a bit occupied anyways. His information concerns me but I'll have to wait until later when I finish things up. Hopefully there won't be too much trouble until then. How are the other countries faring by chance?_

_Kaliningrad… My biggest mistake. We're on our way to the city right now and I'm enjoying one of my last days of rest. Liberating what's left of it will be tough I'm guessing, but I'm hoping the division ahead of us will help clear the path. I painfully regret the fact that I didn't fight harder during the first battle. Russia was hurt dearly because of me._

_Feliks is not fighting with me. Naturally, I haven't heard anything from him but I can't help but worry. Sincerely, I hope he's all right._

_Don't worry over me, though. I'm honestly not worth it, but either way I'll be home soon, I promise. Then things will be back to normal. I look forward to that day._

_With Love,  
Toris Laurinaitis'_

Latvia read the letter over and over again, more tears hitting the surface each and every time. The whole thing was hand-written and the signature still had the same looping _L _and graceful _T _to it like every one of Lithuania's signatures. At one point in time, he must have been sitting beside a campfire in the middle of a winter night, writing this letter.

Latvia hugged the letter to his small chest, more tears dripping down his cheeks.

This… This was proof that Toris had lived—that he had existed.

Despite the ache in his heart, Latvia smiled.

-x-X-x-

Russia dropped to his knees, gasping and choking on the air—the revolver remained in his hands as he doubled over, sweat running down his face.

_In the end… In the end I cannot go where you have gone, Toris. _

Lithuania was the one who weaved himself into his life again, he was the one who was torn straight out, leaving Russia an incomplete shell.

It hurt to live like this but he had no choice. Every second for the past six months was a dagger in his chest but he had no will to stop it. This is what fate had chosen for them. They were never meant to be happy together. It was never possible in the first place—they were doomed from the start.

_I'm weak_, he thought, _I cannot take my own life, even with the hope of seeing your face again. Where you are now is no place for someone like me… But if for only a second, Toris… If I can…_

He stood up from his knees and continued on forward, reaching for the sky longingly. A lone bird soared overhead and his gaze followed it as it flew further and further away.

His heart stopped and his eyes widened.

Someone was waving at him, his eyes closed in a gentle smile across his familiar face.

Russia reached after the shade, stumbling blindly over the wreckage. A voice in his head told him that he was not real, that this was merely an illusion—that Lithuania was dead and gone, never to return to him.

Whether it was real or not, Russia didn't care—he was willing to give in to this lie even if it was for a mere moment, even if he had to suffer the aftermath of something such as this

Lithuania didn't move from his spot amidst the rubble. He didn't open his arms to welcome Russia whose hands were just inches away, reaching for him. Instead, looking thoughtful and unconcerned, Lithuania observed his face, studying the fragile glimmer of hope that still shone through.

Russia's mouth was moving but he was afraid to speak. He was afraid his voice would chase this Lithuania away, that if he did as much as blink, this Lithuania would disappear.

Toris shook his head, a hint of sadness lingering in his soft eyes. Though still smiling, he lifted a finger to his lips that formed words he could not hear. His mouth then sealed itself, silently speaking no more. His veridian orbs bored deep into his own thistle irises as if it were his last chance to memorize them.

Russia closed his eyes for nothing more than a fraction of a second-

-and Lithuania was gone.

There were no more tears to shed when Russia crumpled to his knees again, hunched over and hugging his chest to himself. His heart was wrung dry and dead, the warm sun on his back burning like ice (_How fitting_, he thought, feeling cheated and forsaken). His entire being was ripping in two and there was nothing he could—nothing he _wanted _to do about it. Shrapnel cut into his knees but he didn't take notice—the pain was nothing compared to _this_.

He would've stayed like that forever, curled up and absorbed in his own suffering, but _something _willed him to look up. He obeyed the urge, losing the will of his own.

His lifeless eyes met a curious stare.

Startled, Russia quickly brought the revolver to a child's face, breathing heavily.

The child did not flinch in the slightest—he only continued to gaze up at him with wide eyes, seemingly unaware of the fact that his life could end with the mere pull of a trigger. Russia dropped the gun in horror when he realized what he was doing.

The child's eyes were brighter and more precious than any emerald Ivan had ever seen. Glossy, sepia-colored locks adorned the sides of his face in graceful curves. He was dressed in tattered clothes that matched his surroundings, but his skin was pure and untouched. A slab of amber was strung around his neck, reflecting a golden light on his small chest—Russia recognized the symbol carved into it as Lithuania's seal…

His expression remained inquisitive and innocent, even when Ivan cupped his face with both hands, his famished eyes indulging in the unclouded features.

"I'm so glad you're here," the child said softly, placing his palms over the rough hands. "I wanted to see you…"

His voice, his eyes… they were unmistakable.

"Who are you?" It was a pointless question.

"_So you forgot me already?"_

"Toris," the child answered brightly, smiling (_warm,_ it was warm just like _him)_ "My name's Toris."

Russia carefully threaded his fingers through the child's hair, _feeling_ the realness of it all. This was no illusion. He was not insane. This child exists. Toris exists.

Doubt still lingered over the bliss that was flooding into his chest. It _couldn't_ be true… This was a dream. At any moment, he will wake up to reality and everything will return to the winter.

But what mattered to Russia now was that he felt like living again. His heart swelled with renewed vitality as he felt euphoria radiate from the other like a pleasant aura.

It was unreal. The emotion welling inside of him was overwheming—it was too much for him to handle in such a short amount of time. It was almost impossible to distinguish it all at once— confusion, disbelief, _and happiness _barely described the incredible feeling he was experiencing_._

The vehemence was getting to him. Something hot and wet gathered in his eyes and Toris leaned forward, wrapping his tiny arms around Ivan's neck as he kissed the tears away. Instead of letting go, he only tightened the embrace. Russia reached up to stroke his head, feeling the precious life that was left in his arms.

"_It will be all right."_

"Don't cry, Vanya," Toris murmured. Ivan found the aching in his chest ebbing away at the sound of his name. How long had it been? "If you do, the clouds will come and it'll rain." He gave him one more fluttering kiss. "I hate it when people cry."

Russia stood up slowly, taking Toris with him in his arms. His hands were still joined together behind his neck but he didn't mind—he found his touch soothing.

"I'll protect you, Toris," he vowed, "you'll be safe… with me…"

Toris buried his face into his collarbone, nuzzling the scarf. "I'm so happy, Vanya. Vanya is big, and strong, and _warm_—like the sun…"

_You are the sun_.

Russia kissed the top of his hair. "… Will you come with me? I can take you home… where everyone is waiting for you, Toris."

"_I'd like that… I want to see them again."_

He nodded into his chest. "Mhm… I want to go with Vanya so I can protect and keep him safe too. Then we can be happy together again, right?"

"Da. We will… together." The word never sounded more beautiful on his tongue…

… And it was all Toris needed to hear.

-x-X-x-

* * *

-x-X-x-

_Do you remember the time_

_when little things made you happy?_

_Do you remember the time_

_when simple things made you smile?_

_Life can be wonderful… if you let it be_

_Life can be simple… if you try_

-x-X-x-_  
_

* * *

-x-X-x-

**Epilogue**

"Uncle Al!" The younger nation yelled happily as he latched onto America's middle.

Alfred, startled, patted the brown-haired head. "Hey kiddo, how's it been?" He looked up to see Russia looming over the child. "So this is Lithuania?" He asked, eyeing him strangely as if he wasn't sure whether he should be afraid or elated to see that Russia was fine.

He nodded. "Da, this is him—can you not tell?" Russia sighed in mock anger. "Now, now, Toris… You know it's not polite to jump onto people like that."

"But Vanya~" Toris whined, looking up at them both with twinkling eyes, "Uncle Al is so squishy and fun to hug…"

Alfred flushed and England, who was standing right next to him, snickered. "I think I like this little saucepan already."

Still blushing, America turned his head to glare at him. "A saucepan? He's a _kid_, England… Not a piece of cookware for you to set on fire, honestly now."

"It's a figure of speech," Arthur sniffed, seemingly affronted. "And piece of cookware to set on fire? What are you implying? Only a _headbanger_ would do something like that if it were even possible."

America stifled a laugh but England noticed anyways and thought it was enough of an excuse to try and strangle him. Russia didn't bother to intervene and break them apart. He knew the pair couldn't stand side-by-side peacefully for five minutes without fighting in the first place anyways.

Apparently undisturbed by the violence going on in front of him, Lithuania turned to Russia and tugged on his sleeve, asking innocently, "Vanya, are they married?"

"Yes," Russia answered with a straight face, "That's very smart of you for figuring that out."

The two fighting nations seemed to have heard for they stopped what they were doing to glare at Russia simultaneously. Arthur still had his hands around Alfred's neck, and Alfred had the front of Arthur's shirt clenched between his fists.

"You're talking bollocks. Don't fill that boy's head with silly lies like that," England snapped, perturbed.

"Me? A liar?" Russia inquired, looking mildly shocked at the accusation.

Alfred let go of Arthur's shirt and shoved him off before he could make a retort, ignoring his colorful protests as he knelt down to Toris's level. "Naw, of course we're not married. Iggy's not good enough for that. But anyways, how would you like to visit my place one day, hm? Trust me, Washington is awesome. We have a lot more interesting places than Russia over here."

"That's plausible," Ivan said lightly, "Alfred, I don't want you corrupting him now."

"But what if I want to be corrupted?" Toris quipped in. Russia resisted the urge to bend down and shield his naivety away from the American.

"Yeah, what if he wants to be corrupted?" He paused for a second. "Wait…"

Lithuania opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted when a green mass suddenly enveloped him.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" Poland said, hugging Lithuania tightly. Toris only laughed, welcoming the bear hug. Poland let go and stared intently into his eyes. "Czy mogę dzwonić do siebie Liet?"

He nodded. "Oczywiście jest to możliwe!" Poland's eyes trailed down to the object around his neck and his face lit up. Laughing heartily, he took Lithuania in his arms and spun him around in a circle.

"I can't believe you like, still have it! I've totally missed you!" Lithuania responded by clinging to his neck and laughing happily. Poland slowed to a stop and his gaze landed on Russia. He sobered up but the joy didn't leave his eyes as he said, "Like, take care of him okay? I want to see him healthy and stuff when he visits."

Russia smiled, reassuring him. "I won't let anyone harm him. He will be cherished."

"I take your word for it then. From the beginning to end, he knew what he was doing—Liet really loved you," he set the child down who gave Russia a glance of affection, his mouth lifted in a soft smile. "Actually, I think he still does."

With a warm feeling in his heart, Russia didn't doubt him.

-x-X-x-

Gilbert stood a safe distance away from the embassy, shadowed from view by an alleyway. He could still see the other nations in the distance but he doubt anyone noticed him from there. Still, his instincts for self-preservation had told him _not_ to attend the world meeting, but running away from his problems wasn't the answer—not for him at least.

He had already seen the child. Those deep green depths were filled with the same strength and will as Lithuania. A power Prussia knew all too well from the many encounters on the battlefield.

The one thing he didn't understand though was that Lithuania _died_. He saw the large metal shaft pierce right through his body, almost separating it in two, and the blood that poured out of his mouth right after. Nation or human, no one could've survived that… His capital, the center of his being, was burning down as well. Of course the fires were put out but by then, it was too late for Toris…

So how?

The others believed the boy to be Lithuania himself. Gilbert thought they were just trying to make a happy ending out of a tragedy,

A tragedy _he_ caused.

"Are you alone?"

It was an innocent question that still made Prussia jump—how did he manage to sneak up on him?

"I-I'm not alone," he corrected, "I'm just enjoying my solitude. Why are _you_ here?"

Lithuania grinned at him with childish amusement. "No one else was standing here so I wondered why. It's no fun being alone…"

Prussia kept himself from correcting him again. The child's sincere comment puzzled him. "Don't you hate me?"

"Hate?" He blinked, looking thoughtful as if he were trying to comprehend the meaning of the word. "No, I wouldn't hate Gilbert. That's your name, right? Can I call you Uncle Gilbo…? I have Raivis and Eduard, Uncle Al and Uncle Arthur, then there's Feliks and Vanya too."

Prussia didn't have to ask who "Vanya" was, but he still didn't understand this kid at all. "I don't get it. How can you not hate me after… after…?"

Lithuania shrugged his small shoulders. "I just do. I know what you mean, though—I figured it would be easy to forgive if I was like this." He smiled, the childlike emotion returning to his features. "But don't be sad. Will you come outside? It's boring sitting here, isn't it?"

"I don't think Russia will approve of me. I'm fine like this, really."

He seemed unconvinced and Gilbert mentally cursed the kid's wit.

Lithuania took both of his hands and started tugging him towards the others. Prussia remained rooted to the spot but to his own surprise, he didn't snatch his hands back from the kid's grasp.

"We don't have to fight anymore, Gilbert," Lithuania said, his voice a pure sonance. "It's over now. No one is going to be hurt."

Prussia wanted to believe him. He found it easy to believe him.

He looked over the boy's head and saw Russia approaching them. Toris followed his gaze and another smile crossed his face at the sight of him. He never missed how his eyes always kindled with a different type of fervor every time he laid them on the other nation.

_I envy you._

"Toris," Ivan hummed, ruffling the other's hair gently when he reached them.

_It's true. I never wanted to admit it, especially to your face… But I envy you. I really do._

"Go play with Feliks and the others, all right? Your brothers want to see you. I'll be right over there in a minute."

Lithuania nodded and obeyed, running off to join the rest.

Making sure he was well out earshot, Russia turned back to Gilbert, surveying him with an unreadable expression.

Prussia saw it coming—he saw it coming but made no effort to move out of the way when the fist collided with his jaw.

He stumbled back and rubbed the spot where Russia struck him. His cheek started to taste of something metallic even though he noticed how Russia held back enough to avoid breaking the bone—it still hurt.

"I guess I deserved that," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Russia nodded. "That and a lot more. You have no idea."

"Then go ahead." He braced himself.

"I won't." Prussia frowned, nonplussed. Since when did Russia ever pass beating him up and exacting his revenge? Ivan gestured in Lithuania's direction. "Lithuania forgives you, so what would be the point?"

"Lithuania is dead," he differed flatly.

"Lithuania is not dead. He lives on in _him_. Don't you see?"

In his mind's eye, he saw the two eyes staring up at him with a pure sort of naivety, devoid of any hatred or venom. "But…"

"Toris died for me, and I live on for him. You can keep on hating and despising me like you always have, but you owe your life to that child. It's the very least you can do."

From here, Prussia could see the small nation jump America from behind and knocking him down to the ground, followed closely by Poland who dragged England down with him. The other two Baltics observed the scene with great amusement. He realized he had never seen the often-melancholic nation this happy.

"He's… he's actually free now," Prussia voiced his understanding out loud.

Russia didn't have to say anything to that. Gilbert could already tell he agreed with his sentiment.

Lithuania noticed the two watching him and raised a hand, waving and grinning brightly.

"Uncle Gilbo! Vanya!" He yelled loud enough to hear.

He always thought the coldness and passivity was permanent on Russia's face until it all vanished at that very instant. Prussia felt his own heart grow lighter.

He turned his face towards the sky, neither in despair nor prayer, but in a brief flash of hopeful realization. No clouds hindered the endless stretch of blue—a good omen.

It was going to be peaceful for a while… A very long while.

-x-X-x-

* * *

-x-X-x-

It was my eternal belief

That we could start over.

. . .

In this world,

We are all connected

By this string forged from our love

…And our hate.

It remains within all of us

This is our strength, our undying bond

This is our Cat's Cradle.

-x-X-x-

_**

* * *

**_

- - -

_xxx END xxx_

_- - -  
_

_

* * *

_-x-X-x-

**Author's Note**

That concludes the end to my multi-chaptered fic. We've come a long way to finally see this finished and honestly, I'm really going to miss writing for this story.

First off, I'm really glad I went through with this since the beginning, and it's all thanks to you guys. _Thank you_ for the immense support you've shown me as I gradually updated. I've never received this much love for a single story; but then again, I've never put this much effort into a single story either.

I realize there are some flaws, and some sloppy mistakes but I still enjoyed writing this and I'm glad you guys liked reading it too.

A couple weeks ago, I was completely torn about how I should end TCC, but after long nights of thinking and asking friends for their opinions, I finally made my decision.

As you may or may not know, The Cat's Cradle is an ancient string game that's played all over the world. The symbolism isn't very well known, but it can stand for peace and understanding among others. I'll let you interpret its relation to the story however you'd like, though I think it may be a little obvious xD

I don't have a solid idea on what I'm going to work on next. I might retire to one-shots until I get a good idea so expect some stuff from me x3

The lyrics found in the beginning and middle are from _"__**The Best Is Yet To Come**__" _by Rika Muranaka, and the song itself is from Metal Gear Solid. The original song is in Irish actually (thank you for correcting me! xD ), but listen to it anyway. I find the lyrics and melody so fitting, it's kind of scary.

Some translations:

_Hurensohn (German) –_ Son of a b!tch

_Czy mogę dzwonić do siebie Liet? (Polish) – _Can I call you Liet?

Oczywiście jest to możliwe! _(Polish)_ – Of course you can!

Probably not entirely accurate, I used a translator for everything except Prussia's pottymouth.

So that's the end to my ridiculously long author's note. Now that everything's finished, I'm very curious about what you all thought about everything. Some people rarely review until the story finishes, but I just want to know what you think now that its over. (Hurrah for connecting with readers )

Once again, thank you for reading and sticking with me till the very end!


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